


The Lesson Plan

by EAbbene



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Professors, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:48:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EAbbene/pseuds/EAbbene
Summary: Because Pansy Parkinson had a plan.  And Longbottom needed to be taught a lesson.  How dare he grow up to be all charming and handsome after he was such a bumbling oaf of a childhood nemesis!  And how dare he be so handsome and tempting when she couldn't afford to be distracted.  She was here to teach and make sure she completed family obligations, not be sidetracked by Herbology Professors with bedroom eyes.  Well, you know what they say about making plans...
Relationships: Hannah Abbott/Neville Longbottom, Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 37
Kudos: 92





	1. Prologue to a Plot

Pansy Parkinson heaved a great sigh as she looked up at the castle above her. What she wouldn’t do to be back at Durmstrang. But, after ten years abroad, it was time to come home, for more than one reason. She readjusted her grip on her trunk, a worn black leather monstrosity that had seen her through all seven years at Hogwarts, four years in Switzerland, and two at Beauxbatons, and four at Durmstrang. With a shake of her curls, she braced herself, forced herself to stop delaying, and once again stepped over the threshold of Hogwarts.

The large hourglasses housing the glittering house points still stood in their same proud places of the entrance hall. The hushed murmurs of the same old portraits still echoed behind her as her stiletto heels clicked against the same stone floors. She swished her willow wand in a tight circle and the trunk behind her sped away soaring along a side passage to a destination known only to her. Taking the stairs two at a time with her long legs, she hurried toward the Headmistress’s office. 

Arriving at the office she smoothed her skirts and adjusted the smart little matching hat perched jauntily on her head. No sense looking less than her best and the emerald green robes looked rather stunning on her, if she said so herself. The delicate gold embroidery on them was beautiful, and the tailoring job was perfect, showing off her tall trim form to a perfection that she knew rivaled that of Lady Malfoy. She looked like the perfect pureblooded lady. Even if she wasn’t one, much to her mother’s distinct disappointment. 

She lifted her hand to rap on the door only to have it swing inward, making her arrival all the more awkward. She cleared her throat gently and stepped into the large Headmistress’s office. She’d been there only a few times prior, not having had much reason to be called there during her first through sixth years and then it had not been in use during her seventh. She glanced around noting the changes in the much more modern and less cluttered looking room. If there was one thing McGonagall had always had it was taste. The lady herself sat at a large wooden desk, that ever present green inkwell at hand, calmly writing the last lines of what appeared to be an acceptance letter. If the stack of lists next to her were to be trusted. 

“Ah, Pansy, right on time,” she said looking up and adjusting those rectangular glasses on her slender nose. “Sit, please sit!” 

Pansy approached the desk and promptly lowered herself into the delicate chair in front of the massive desk. She folded her hands for lack of something to do and tried to relax.

“It’s going to be quite the stir having you here,” said McGonagall flicking her wand and folding the letter into a neat envelope. 

“I don’t understand why you’d have me then,” Pansy replied tightly. “With all due respect of course.”

“No, no, you misunderstand!” sighed McGonagall with a wave of her hand. “When Fillius announced he was retiring, I was positively horrified at finding someone else. I not only just replaced Pamona and Septina, but now I needed a new Charms teacher. I went through the records to try and place the last time someone had to replace professors in five of the seven core classes in less than three years. The previous headmasters and I have determined that to be never.”

“Now, having had such a difficult time replacing myself and Horus, who honestly stayed longer than I really ever expected, I knew that replacing Pomona and Fillius needed to be done the right way.”

“And by that, I’m assuming you mean someone who at least had a modicum of teaching experience?” asked Pansy, having heard the fiasco of the retired Auror who had taken over the Defense Against the Dark Arts Position and his successor a year later, a fresh off their Mastery Wizard from Hufflepuff who was green as a bullfrog. 

“Well, that certainly helps. Having taught at not one but two rival schools, and having done well at both positions and coming very highly recommended.”

“What you mean is, you needed at least one teacher who had been a member of the Slytherin house to head it after Professor Vector announced her retirement,” put in Pansy. 

“Well, your house status would certainly help things, although we have had head of houses that were not alumni of their house.”

“Not since the fourteen hundreds,” put in Pansy, well versed in Hogwarts a History. 

“True,” admitted the Headmistress. “But you have quite the resume when it comes to teaching. Additionally, I’ve been following your work in Challenges in Charming. You’ve been published more in the past five years than many professors have in fifty.”

“Being published does not necessarily a good professor make,” put in Pansy diplomatically while silently taking in the praise and filing it for a later time.

“Correct, but it shows just how ambitious you are. Something that was perhaps overlooked due to the nature of who you were competing against in school.” She meant Granger of course, that rivalry was far from dead. Having to hear about how the witch had pumped out yet another child for Weaslebee had not quite been the highlight of Pansy’s birthday this year. As if inching one year closer to thirty hadn’t been enough.

“I’m quite looking forward to you joining the staff,” continued McGonagall. “You’ll be bringing experience to a rather young staff, not that you aren’t young yourself, but. I think you’ll soon come to find that others will be looking up to you. And despite any past differences you may have with any of the other professors, I do hope you make some new friends.”

Pansy snorted lightly, even though it was very unladylike. She didn’t expect that any of the other staff would be asking her to join them for tea in the breakroom. In fact, she was pretty sure moving back to Great Britain was entirely a bad idea, but… somewhat necessary in the scheme of things. 

“Very good, then. I’ll be off to my quarters then,” she said, bringing this meeting to a close.

“Yes, I’ve put you in Filius’s tower. It’s rather roomy for one, but he and Nina were very happy there and he particularly expressed an interest in you taking them on rather than the new Ravenclaw Head of House.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” demurred Pansy. “I think he knew how much I detested the close spaces of the dungeons in my later years. I would much prefer a room with real windows.” 

“Oh, do call me Minerva. And might I say you look like the very gemino of your Grandmother Selwyn today,” answered McGonagall, putting her quill to a fresh sheet of paper as she dismissed her new charms professor. One she had been quite pleased to tell the board brought the average years of teaching experience between the staff to a somewhat acceptable level. How the witch had 6 years experience already was a bit of a mystery shock, but she had covered a two year sabbatical at Beauxbatons and an extended illness and then retirement at Durmstrang. Luring the witch from the prestigious institution was quite the feat, and Minerva wondered what could have brought the pureblooded witch back to Hogwarts. She was clearly very uncomfortable here. 

Pansy wandered aimlessly through the elegant rooms that were now hers. They were beautiful, of course, much less masculine than other parts of the castle. It was rumored to have been the family home of Rowena during her time as a founder, where she raised her family. Having seen the Ravenclaw tower a time or two, she agreed the aesthetic was similar, but it was obvious this entire tower had undergone quite serious renovations sometime after the sixteenth century. It was completely modernized compared to other areas of the castle, and the charms built into the wards weren’t nearly as ancient as other parts of the castle. The spells were of newer design, and less rune based. She poked her wand at a particular dense area of charmwork woven into the walls and wasn’t surprised in the least to find a secret passage. 

Having nothing better to do, she followed the narrow stairs from her room, brushing the cobwebs off her shoulders and wincing at the dirt. 

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Retiring from a job that made everyone but you happy was one thing- Acknowledging to yourself that you were a washed up Auror who couldn’t cope with the darkness you encountered at such a job was another. 

Going through a very public pureblooded divorce in front of the Wizegamot was one thing- Privately acknowledging the fact that your wife was never going to give you the children you wanted and was actively cheating on you was another. 

Realizing that you were a mere two years away from thirty and officially the only single, childless, aimless person in your friend group-That was a hard potion to swallow. 

Luckily Neville Longbottom only had to admit most of those things privately. 

No one knew how taxing being an auror had been for him, trying to live up to his family legacy while secretly wishing he could be anywhere else. He knew Dumbledore probably would have called that a special kind of bravery, the person who runs into danger when he would really rather be anywhere else but does it out of obligation. However, with the last of the death eaters caught last year, he really couldn’t be bothered to stay on with the department. And he would have been content to stay at home like the rich Lord he was and do absolutely nothing and getting soused in his library, but Minerva made a good point when she said he’d always enjoyed being outdoors.

Besides, if he stayed at home, he’d have to listen to his gran complain about his ex-wife and the fact that despite suffering through five years of marriage to the witch, he didn’t have a single great  
grandbaby to show for it. She’d never liked Hannah to begin with, and the divorce had given her the justification to tell him exactly that. Pretty much ten times a day.

He’d arrived to find the greenhouses in order, his quarters in the Herbology cottage more than adequate, and Pamona’s notes on her lesson plans to be perfectly spelled out. Until he decided to deviate and create his own curriculum, he was set. Which led to the one thing Neville had suffered with for the last two months since quitting the aurors, too much time and too little to do. Oh, Minerva had assured him there would be plenty to do as soon as school started up. She’d even taken it upon herself to assign him the dubious honor of head of house. And like a true idiot, he’d accepted. 

He kicked a rock into the lake. The Herbologist’s cottage was just off greenhouse seven and backed up to the lake. As a student, he’d never spent much time back here, far from the quidditch pitch, far from the wide lawn by the lake where students had studied. No, this area, that sat in the shadow of the castle in the afternoon was much quieter, almost somber. He looked up at the castle, wondering if he would notice the repaired areas if he hadn’t been there and done some of the work himself. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to spend much time inside as the resident Herbologist, but he’d already decided he had underestimated the powerful emotions that came with being here again. 

He sighed and wondered if his newly assigned house elf would bring him dinner tonight, or if he would have to brave the hall to eat with the rest of the staff. Term didn’t start for two full weeks, but Minerva wanted to make sure they were all settled in and ready for classes by the time the students arrived in September. 

Caving, he pulled his flask from his pocket and took a swig, not even wincing at the burn of the firewiskey. He supposed he would have to give it up once school started, but he definitely needed a stiff drink today. Sinking down on a rock, he looked out over the stillness of the lake, the forest blurry and faint on the other side. Maybe Minerva was right and Hogwarts was a place of healing and serenity. He could certainly see it from this angle. 

A sudden movement out of the corner of his eye had him redirecting his attention to the castle as a scream disrupted the calm and a bright green figure flew out of what he was certain had been a solid wall and plummeted into the lake, a dark bat flew out the narrow doorway after before the opening disappeared. Neville watched with amusement as the witch flailed in the air, her skirts flying above her head to reveal a very trim pair of long pale legs and a pair of bright purple lace knickers. A very lovely set of knickers and a shapely bum if Neville was being completely honest. He took another mouthful from his flask before tucking it in his pocket and getting to his feet. 

Neville watched the water where the screaming witch had landed, the ripples marking her entry into the otherwise calm waters. He toed off his shoes and shrugged off the outer robes he had worn for the pointless interview with Minerva this morning. He didn’t fancy trying to swim in either one if he needed to go in after the waterlogged witch. He relaxed as a dark head broke the water, coughing and sputtering. 

“Hufflefucker!” came a loud feminine exclamation. “Bloody Baron’s frozen ghostly ballsack this bloody lake is cold.” Neville burst into laughter and the witch spun in the water to look at him, and he was struck by how very violet colored the woman’s eyes were as they narrowed at him. 

“I suppose chivalry really is dead if a Gryffindor like you can stand there and laugh at me,” she called over the water. 

“Did you need any help, my fair lady,” he called, trying to pull himself together, but having drank more firewiskey than was strictly appropriate for a Monday afternoon, he wasn’t quite successful. 

“Godric it’s cold, but I supposed I’ll manage. Not that I think you’d be much help,” she snapped, not doing a terribly good or bad job of swimming toward the shore. 

Neville tried to hold back his laughter at her slow progress, the woman’s bright green hat flopping down onto her forehead. He was sure it had been a very smart little fascinator, but as he watched her try and get it out of her face, he found it nothing but ridiculous, the thick black feather stuck to her cheek. 

Comically she finally made it to the shallows, standing up and trudging slowly through the mucky bottomed lake, her hair plastered to her neck and shoulders and her knee length dress plastered to her body as she emerged from the water. The water must have been as icy as she claimed considering her nipples were puckered tightly as to poke at the green fabric covering them, giving Neville a glorious view. He leaned against a nearby willow tree and tried to hide his smirk with a cough as he watched her glistening legs emerge from the water, a few strands of seaweed clinging to her calves. He noted with surprise the black dragon leather stilettos still on her feet and conceded that would have made for a difficult swim. 

She huffed angrily, and he let his eyes leisurely scan back up her body, taking in every dip and curve. Finally bringing his gaze back to her face he was startled to find it familiar. “Parkinson,” he blurted out. 

“Glad you managed to find me memorable. Considering we’ve known each other since we were in nappies,” she snarked, pulling her wand from a pocket in her sleeve and casting a drying charm that had her hair curling up around her shoulders and her clothes falling back into place. 

“Haven’t seen those curls since before we were eleven,” grinned Neville, reaching out and tweaking one before it sprang back into place. Just like they had when they were children and he’d pestered her when their grandmothers had visited.

“I’ve given up straightening them,” she sighed distractedly. She was busy casting charms on her shoes to ensure the dragon leather wasn’t completely ruined.

“What are you doing back here? Last I heard you were considering a position in Russia.”

“We both know my Russian is middling to awful,” put in Pansy. “Flitwick retired, and the secret passage I found in his old quarters lets out here… apparently.”

“That seems all kinds of useful,” laughed Neville.

“So it would seem,” drawled Pansy looking at him for the first time. “And it would seem you’re drunk as a Lord.”

“Lord Longbottom at your service, Lady Parkinson,” he returned with a perfectly executed bow.

“Salazar save me from nitwits like yourself,” she huffed, turning on her heel and heading toward the castle. 

“Now, I resent that. Being called a nitwit,” protested Neville. “But back to my original question, what are you doing in England, Parkinson?”

She sighed and turned to find him evaluating her with that intensely intelligent gaze she was certain he had utilized during his time as an Auror. “If you must know, I’m fulfilling my familial obligations. Mother and father insisted on it, and since I didn’t quite fancy being disowned, here I am,” she confessed. 

“Ahhh, back to produce the requisite heir and spare? Might I ask who the lucky wizard is?” he poked what he knew would be a sore spot. No one knew better how to press one’s button’s than a childhood frenemy. 

“I’ve found a way around that, actually,” she stuck her nose in the air and looked down at him in a rather Lady Malfoy fashion that might have had him pointing out Draco was already happily married if she didn’t look so bloody self satisfied. “And what about your heir and spare? Oh, that’s right, I heard Abbot’s womb ended up as empty as her head.” He snorted at that one. He might have to keep that one for later.

“I found a way around that too actually,” he crossed his arms and grinned at the dark haired witch in front of him. “You know… unless you’re interested in taking on the position.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “We could try a couple different positions…”

“Godric you’re disgusting!” she snapped. “It’s like you got all hot in sixth year and all that ugliness went straight to your personality. No wonder that slag left you.”

“Glad you can finally admit I’m hot,” he said with that irritating smirk again, completely ignoring the cheap shot she’d made at his divorce.

“Are you always this insufferable with everyone or do you save it especially for me?” she demanded.

“I save it for you, but don’t worry, not seeing you the last seven years has allowed me to save up for the here and now.”

“Well you’d best get it all out or you might miss your chance. I don’t plan to stick around much longer than I have to,” she retorted crossly before storming away. He watched her go, the emerald skirts swishing and those strings of seaweed clinging to her legs. He raised his flask to her retreating figure before tipping in back and draining it. 

Running into your childhood nemesis was one thing- acknowledging that she had you hard as a rock and you wanted to fuck her so hard she couldn’t remember her name was another.  
Neville took another swig of firewhiskey. He needed it.


	2. Slytherin Schemes and other devices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Rule of Self Preservation: Always have a plan. A Plan is essential in keeping oneself on track to success. Diverting from the plan often leads to failure. Following the plan can be the difference between survival and death. The plan should always put you first.

Pansy flicked through the last of the files. It was incredibly frustrating that only a single one met her criteria, which was admittedly stupid, but unfortunately necessary. She ran over the cursory information. It wasn’t much to go by, but… it was enough to satisfy the requirements of her inheritance and her parents had surprisingly agreed to it. She was fairly certain they had worried she would just walk away, and this compromise was… enough for them. She wondered if it would be enough for her.

She thought back to her encounter with Longbottom the week before. She had studiously avoided the wizard since, but, it had been almost eerie how quickly she had run into him upon returning to the UK. And it had been just as it always was. From the time they were children, forced together during their grandmother’s weekly teas, they had been at each other’s throats. Their time at Hogwarts, she had done her best to avoid the boy who for as bumbling and idiotic as he was nearly always managed to get the best of her. It was completely inexplicable and it annoyed her to no end. Furthermore, he was friends with Draco now, and had managed to essentially steal her best friend. Lastly, he reminded her of the fact her grandmother had made an untimely end, while his… His had managed not to be offed by the Dark Lord’s followers.

She twirled one of her fat dark curls around a finger, absently thinking of her grandmother. She looked over to the clock and sighed. She scribbled a note off, and tied up the remaining files to be returned. She looked at the one remaining on her desk. Locking it in the lower drawer she waved her wand with some particularly strong wards. She didn’t exactly need anyone else reading up on her plans.

The first of September was finally here, and Pansy was pleased to say she had revised her curriculums for the first two months of term and had a plan. She was less than pleased with the fact she was waiting at the heads table between the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and the Herbology Professor.

Sitting next to Rolf wouldn’t have been so bad, but Longbottom was getting under her skin. He smelled like fresh pine, cinnamon, and dirt and if she hadn’t checked his hands for dirt, she might have suspected he came straight from the greenhouses. She also suspected the cinnamon might have something to do with the copious amounts of Firewiskey the man seemed to drink. She’d smelled it on his breath at the all staff meeting yesterday.

She was wearing her deep violet short robes that matched her eyes and had the gold embroidered pansies on them. The underdress had a modest sweetheart neckline and the outer robe, just a shade darker, had a tall collar that emphasized her delicate neck. She had pulled her curls up in a neat bun, nothing severe, but fitting for the start of term feast being a somewhat formal even.

Longbottom on the other hand was wearing a pressed shirt but no tie, and a pair of navy trousers and dark blue robes just a few shades darker than his own eyes. Even Hagrid had worn a tie for start of term festivities when he was a professor. Pansy bit her tongue and refrained from saying anything.

“I don’t remember the Slytherin table looking that empty when we were students,” commented Longbottom, suddenly drawing her attention away from the silver runes on his family ring to the students filling the hall in front of them. She narrowed her eyes at the realization that her alma mater was nearly half as full as the other tables bursting with students.

“I’m sure having had Vector as head of house these past five years hasn’t been helpful. She always had a reputation for being strict,” put in Pansy, ignoring the fact that the stigma of being slytherin was a more logical explanation. That and the decreased birth rate among purebloods following the war. Considering so many of them were dead or in prison.

Pansy turned at watched as the head of Ravenclaw house led the new students in from the corridor. Dressed head to toe in yellow, one might confuse her with the head of Hufflepuff if it wasn’t for the imitation Diadem perched atop her head. The witch brought the sorting hat to the stool and it began it’s usual little ditty, which Pansy tuned out, looking over the new class, meeting a high number of scared eyes, she gave each child she met eyes with a small smile of reassurance. This year would be an especially small class of students considering they were born during the war. She nearly visibly startled when she found herself looking into the bright grey eyes of the Black family. The tall gangly boy had dark brown hair and a mischievous little grin. He met her eyes and she winked, causing that Black family smirk to spread wider.

She watched with interest as the sorting began, clapping extra loudly whenever a student was sorted into her house, trying to make up for the much louder acceptance into the other houses. She wasn’t surprised when the Lupin boy with the Black family looks was sorted into Gryffindor, but did give a little start when his hair flashed red and gold after. She would have to watch that one. All said and done, she only had six of the forty new students, three boys and three girls. All six of them looked miserable and one even cried as an older student did their best to comfort them. Then and there Pansy decided that Slytherin house was going to be her special project this year, and that they would soon be proud and pleased to have been selected for the best house.

McGonagall did introductions and she noticed the lack of enthusiasm from the students at her announcement and the fact she was also the new Slytherin Head of house. In fact, she was nearly certain she’d heard a student loudly complain that there went their chances of getting a NEWT in Charms. Remembering the difficulty of having a new defense professor every year, she couldn’t wait to prove them wrong.

“So Pansy, what brings you back home?” asked the light airy voice to the other side of Rolf. The Care of Magical Creatures teacher and head of Ravenclaw house, Luna Scamander.

“I missed the wonderful weather,” she deadpanned looking the ceiling showing a pouring rain that had been pounding the castle for the past three days.

“Oh, I rather thought perhaps you had heard England’s most eligible bachelor was on the market again,” sighed Luna, causing Neville to start at Pansy’s side, clearly not happy to have been brought into the conversation.

“I didn’t realize Potter was getting a divorce?!” Pansy feigned innocence. “In that case, I really think I ought to dye my hair. How do you think I would look as a redhead?” Neville snorted at her side.

“Oh, no, I think Harry and Ginny are quite happy. She’s expecting again you know. I was talking about Neville, here.”

“Oh,” Pansy looked over at Neville with a skeptical grimace. “Well, in that case,” she turned to Luna and continued in a loud whisper that had every chance of being overheard. “I’ve always had more brains that breasts, so I don’t think I’m quite his type.” Rolf attempted to hide his amusement with a cough and Luna gave a mysterious smile before she returned her attention to her food.

When the feast was finally over, she watched as the sixth and seventh year prefects led the slytherins toward the dungeons. Rising, she decided it would be a good time to introduce herself to her house and set the tone for the year. Knowing a shorter route, she hurried from the hall, not noticing that she was being followed until a strong hand on her wrist had her spinning back, wand out, to find Longbottom with a lazy grin promptly stepping away.

“What do you want, Longbottom?” she demanded, glancing at her wrist and silently calculating how long she had to get to the common room.

“Just wanted to remind you that I have always very much appreciated those tits of yours, even if you always have had an oversized brain, those are the perfect size,” he drawled in that posh accent he’d learned at his grandmother’s knee. He stepped forward and she found herself against the wall as he casually rested his arm against the wall, invading her personal space as he leaned in as if to tell a secret. “It’s your personality I’ve always had a problem with,” he murmured in her ear, causing a delicious shiver to run down her spine.

“I’ve always wondered why you’ve never been accused of bigotry, considering your preference for Pureblooded daughters. Abbot, Weaslette, Lovegood,” she ticked off her fingers. “Me.”

“Coincidence. Besides, no one ever knew about my pathetic misguided affections for you,” he murmured dismissively.

“Except our grandmothers,” she pointed out. “Grandmother Selwyn used to bemoan that I could have had a Longbottom wrapped around my finger from the age of seven if I had just been nicer to you.”

“I was desperate for a friend and you were the only child I’d ever seen.”

“And Draco was more fun,” she said meanly.

“I’m sure,” agreed Neville stepping away. “Too bad that didn’t result in you being the next Lady Malfoy.”

“Merlin, if you think I was after that,” she laughed. “Husbands are overrated. Didn’t your grandmother teach you that? If not, Abbot should have been a lesson in the cautionary tale of a pureblooded marriage.” Spinning on her heel she stalked down the hall. She wouldn’t beat the students to the common room.

Neville stood in the middle of the narrow corridor watching her skirts swish behind her before heading back to the greenhouses. He hated it when Parkinson was right.

She had arrived at the common room with moments to spare. Slipping in the room, she found it the same as ever and a sense of coming home washed over her. She conjured up a comfortable purple armchair and a small platform next to the great fireplace that was the focal point of the room. Taking a seat, she delicately crossed her legs and watched the door as the prefects ushered in the students. 

“Common room here, girls staircase on the left, boys on the right, dorms are marked by year, oh, hello Professor,” said a young man, tall and dark haired with bright green eyes. He looked like Theo, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was a Nott.

“I’ve come for a bit of an introduction. If everyone might gather around,” she said, watching the nervous eyes as they filtered in and took delicate perches around the room facing the fireplace. The house was decimated in numbers with hardly any students. She noted siblings grouping together, some of the students having familiar features that indicated they were likely related to previous classmates of her own.

“I’ll get to the point,” she announced. “I’m disappointed to see how decimated in numbers my alma mater has become. The other houses outnumber you by at least two to one ratios. We only have six new members of this house. Slytherin is better than this, and the only way to change a reputation is to pull ourselves out of the gutter and rise above any lingering prejudice from the war, and make ourselves a shining example of what a house should be.”

“With all due respect professor, that’s a little hard when you’re the punching bag of the school,” put in an older year with her arms wrapped around the first year girl who had cried at her sorting.

“There’s your problem,” said Pansy. “I can see you don’t see the value of our house. You see it as a punishment for being from a long line of wizarding families, for those families honoring traditions of a wizarding upbringing. Perhaps see it as what is due to you after the way your family acted during the wars. You are wrong. Slytherin is a house of family loyalty, tradition, determination, and ambition. You’re here not just because you are clever, but because you want to act on that. Every single one of you has potential and a drive to prove to the world that you are something. Don’t let your experiences with the other houses dim that ambition. This year we are going to work on lifting each other up from within. This is the year we turn this around. I’ll be having private meetings with each of you over the next few weeks, and we are going to work on what you want to get out of this year. No more keeping our heads down and letting the other houses walk over us.”

“But professor…”

“No! This is not negotiable. Every student in this school is going to respect us as a house if not feel a little jealous they aren’t one of us by the end of the year!” she snapped. “Now, every one of you is going to sign up for a time to meet with me in my office in the next two weeks, sign ups are on the bulletin board, and at the end of these two weeks we are going to have a celebration of the Slytherin house. It’s a formal party, so you might want to think about inviting a date or a friend. I’m assuming you all brought a set of dress robes.”

A murmur went up among the students. A party being announced by a head of house was unheard of, but Pansy was within her rights, and a Party was just what the students needed. “I’ll see you all in Charms,” she dismissed them, vanishing her armchair and heading toward the door. “And I’m going to expect you’ve read the first two chapters of your texts,” she said as she breezed through the door. If they had any ambition among the lot, they’d all be ready for their first class and show the other students that they were ready to work, and perhaps earn a few house points.

Between all of her meetings and the first week of classes, she was a very busy woman, especially considering she had an appointment this weekend that had her on the edge in more ways than one. Friday afternoon, and she had just finished with her seventh year NEWT level charms class, a group of thirty students from all four houses who seemed well prepared by Filius for what she had planned.

A rap on her door had her looking up to see Longbottom, a frown on his face, dirt or perhaps dragon dung clinging to his boots. She gave him a once over before looking back to her parchment.

“The gryffindors are up in arms,” he announced.

“Ahh, what battle are they rushing into?” she asked.

“They’re displeased that Slytherin house is having a formal party next weekend to kick off the school year and Gryffindor isn’t.”

“I’m sorry, was I assigned to the Gryffindor house party planning committee?” asked Pansy with false surprise.

“Since when do head of houses announce parties the first week of school?”

“Since my house morale is lower than what I find acceptable. If the gryffindors want to go, they might consider being nicer to their classmates, maybe an invitation would be extended.”

“Did you bother to run this past McGonagall.”

“It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. In this case, neither was required.”

“Typical Parkinson tactics. I suppose you think a magnificent party is going to endear anyone invited to said party.”

“I never said that… I merely implied to my students that inviting someone from another house might encourage a little interhouse unity.”

“What about everyone that wasn’t invited?”

“Jealousy makes everyone a little green on the inside,” she smirked. “Give them a taste of their own medicine from what I’ve heard. Slytherin has been on the outside for years now.”

“I certainly hope this little plan of yours doesn’t backfire.”

“Everyone likes a little party. Besides, Sinistra agreed to let us have it on top of the astronomy tower, weather permitting of course. It’s going to be wonderful! You should come.”

“Are you inviting me?” he asked, leaning over her desk, making her more than a little bothered by how close he was. She could smell him, never a good thing.

“Well when you put it like that,” she complained.

“It’s a date Parkinson,” he said.

St. Mungo’s was cold and clinical, something she remembered from the time she’d used accidental magic to transfigure her arms as a child. She’d desperately wanted to be a bird and fly. What a stupid inclination. She took the stairs, used to them from Hogwarts and appreciating the exercise.

Arriving at the appointment, she checked in with the mediwitch and was taken back to a small room where she gowned up. Laying back on the table, she wondered if this was the best course of action. A memory of Longbottom suggesting a different position flashed through her mind and she dismissed it.

In order to retain her Selwyn inheritance, as the most direct descendant of the last Selwyn, she had to continue the bloodline by the age of thirty or forfeit her inheritance. And if anyone thought that she was going to let a Carrow get her hands on her Grandmother’s money, they had another think coming. Longbottom hadn’t been serious, and she would never seriously consider such a proposal. Everything became messy when it came to Longbottom. She laid back and tried to relax until she heard a slight knock at the door and her entire body tensed again.

“Are we ready to make a baby!?” sung the blond haired healer as she practically skipped into the room. Pansy remembered her from Hogwarts and she had come _highly_ recommended by Draco and Astoria. It was Tracy who had suggested the muggle technology that was still considered highly innovative in the wizarding world. Violet Parkinson had read the same article in Witch Weekly and it had been simple to convince her mother and father of the benefits, not the least of which having been continuing the Parkinson name.

“Can’t wait!” answered Pansy tightly. Literally, she didn’t have that much time. Hopefully this thing worked. She only had 22 months left before that ever-creeping deadline. Her mother had struggled desperately to have her, and Pansy wasn’t sure how long this would take. She should have come up with a plan years ago, but thirty had seemed so far away, and her career so important.

“Alright, got some prime baby making juice here,” said the healer, holding up a potion vial with a grin. Pansy wondered if she was this disgustingly cheerful all the time, or if it was an act. And as a healing professional, shouldn’t she be using proper terminology? It was sperm. S.P.E.R.M. “Donor number 730, brown hair, blue eyed, Caucasian wizard, height 186 centimeters, pureblooded ancestry going back six or more generations in all directions, aged between 25 and 35, no known family history of diseases, magical ability scored at or above an 80, the highest ranking.”

“That’s correct,” said Pansy signing off the form the healer handed her.

“And it looks like you’re scheduled for ovulation any second now, per your tracking it should be sometime today or tomorrow which is perfectly good. Now, if you’re ready?” Pansy sighed and wondered if things with Longbottom would have been quite this awkward. Her memory flashed back to a particularly memorable afternoon when they had discovered that both boys and girls did not have ‘trouser wands’. No, decidedly this was the better position to be in.

Pansy stared at the ceiling after the healer left, telling her to give it a few minutes to “let it rest,” before she was free to leave. She counted the ceiling tiles, wondered what the numbers meant arithromantically and then wished she had brought a book. Mentally planning her week, she thought about the brilliance of her little back to school dance. It was going to be fun. She had arranged for a buffet of appetizers and snacks from the kitchens as well pumpkin juice and butterbeer to drink. She was borrowing the muggle stereo player from the muggle studies classroom and they were going to play all the muggle hits. One of the half blood sixth year slytherins had volunteered to be in charge of the music. The Slytherin Prefects were in charge of decorating and the quidditch team was in charge of clean up. She had recruited Trelawney and Rolf as chaperones with her, and the unwitting Longbottom who thought the whole thing was some kind of twisted date. Uggh, she had to stop thinking about him.

Friday night after dinner, she watched the Slytherin students hurry through dinner. The castle had been abuzz all day with the party. Most of her students had taken her advice to heart on inviting a student from another house to the party and she had rsvp’s for a party with at least twice the number of students in her house, and she was expecting a few crashers.

She herself went to her rooms and changed into the dress robes she had selected for the occasion. The underdress was a slinky tight red number with a low cut sweetheart neckline and red sequined fabric. It hugged her curves to the knees where it then fell to the floor. Over it was a sheer set of outer robes with billowing sleeves and an elegant collar. Her curls were again pulled back in a loose bun but she allowed one fat curl to rest along her neck and shoulder. She wore the Selwyn rubies and the goblin made ruby tiara to match.

The color choice was a deliberate attempt to show house unity, although she did have a rather fabulous set of emeralds. The dress was one she knew she looked well in, she’d worn it for the Durmstrang Midwinter Ball the year before. But mostly, she wanted to make Longbottom drool at her feet, and if Gryffindor red didn’t do the trick, she wasn’t sure what would.

Charming her lips a ruby red, she gave herself a wink in the mirror as her reflection gave her a double thumbs up. Heading out of her apartments, she was startled to find a tall dark haired wizard waiting for her in the corridor. The dark blue eyes gave her a lingering once over before he let out a low whistle.

“When you said formal, you weren’t kidding were you?” he asked, stepping into the light to reveal his all black dress robes that had surely been tailored to his form exactly.

“Of course not,” she sniffed as he stepped forward and offered his arm in a way that she knew he’d been tutored to do by a very exacting dancing and etiquette instructor they had shared from the time they were nine. She delicately placed her hand along the cuff of his sleeve, noting he had chosen to wear the silver goblin made cuff links with the emerald leaf design. He had gotten them for his thirteenth birthday. “You look rather dashing,” she conceded as he led her toward the astronomy tower.

She had decided to host the party like a formal ball, and she’d chosen the prefects as the hosts. Each pair greeted each guest as they arrived and then guests were announced by a pair of house elves who were enjoying the pomp and circumstance rarely seen at Hogwarts. She allowed Neville to guide her through the receiving line, smiling brightly at each of the prefects who looked very pleased with their decorations and their own attire.

Having declared herself the guest of honor, she and Neville opened the dance floor and the festivities began. Within twenty minutes it was a roaring success. McGonagall herself showed up with the editor of the Prophet, Barnabas Cuffe on her arm, a scrawny camera man following in their wake.

“I swear, McGonagall has to have a little slytherin in her, she’s going to get this in the Prophet,” Pansy whispered excitedly.

“And then everyone is going to wonder why Slytherin gets a party and no one else does!” shot back Neville.

“If you wanted to have a party for the gryffindorks, I would help you supervise,” she pouted.

“That’s just it, I don’t want to host parties! How long did it take you to organize this? I’m still working on keeping up with lesson planning.”

“Oh, you poor first year professor,” she cooed giving him a pitying look.

“You’re also forgetting I never did a mastery. I’m here on Sprout’s recommendation alone.”

“Seventh year was practically a mastery. Considering all the student teaching you did getting the DA members through their studies that year in the room of requirement. I heard every student there managed to test into the next year successfully, which is more than some of the students who remained in class.”

“Well, that was a team effort,” Neville replied blushing.

“Alright _Professo_ r,” she smirked. “Ohhh… Don’t you love muggle music?”

“I’ve come to enjoy it,” he agreed. “It’s amazing how integrated it’s become in the last ten years.”

“I missed it at Durmstrang. We didn’t have any way to listen to it.”

“Dance?” he held out his hand as the number switched to swing, a favorite dance style of their best dancing instructor.

“Promise not to step on my toes Longbottom?”

“Not since we were nine,” he promised taking her hand and rolling his eyes. Considering they had danced together for eight years during their shared lessons, they fell into step with each other perfectly. Swing had always been their favorite, a somewhat scandalous dance for the wizarding world, but catching on with popularity so it had needed to be taught. Pansy laughed as he whipped her around the floor, the red organza of her outer robes swirling with each spin.

Neither noticed the flash of the photographer taking the photo that would be the centerpiece of the society pages for the Sunday edition of the paper.

**NEW SLYTHERIN HEAD OF HOUSE HOSTS SPECTACULAR TRADITIONAL BACK TO SCHOOL BALL  
Barnabus Cuffe Reporting**

**Barnabus Cuffe was invited by Headmistress McGonagall herself as her personal guest to a lavish formal affair hosted by the Slytherin students to celebrate their return to school. According to students, their new head of house and first year charms teacher, Lady Pandora Parkinson, announced the party the night students returned to school, deciding it would be good for the students to get together and also to invite their friends from other houses to attend.**

**“Everyone could bring one guest from another house. For the first years, that’s a great way to help them meet someone from another house. For us older years, it let us bring in friends we’ve had outside our house for years to be here,” Gabrielle Marchbanks, sixth year Prefect told us. She brough a study friend from Ravenclaw who is also a sixth year prefect. “We’re potions partners, and so I asked her if she wanted to attend! We’ve been looking forward to it and talking about it all week during prefect rounds. I’m sure next week we’ll still be talking about Professor Parkinson’s dress robes! They’re so glamorous!”**

**Not everyone was thrilled with the party. An unnamed source from another house who wishes to remain anonymous was quite put out to be left off the guest list. “I don’t understand why those stuck up snobs get a party and we can’t attend. It’s not as if gryffindor’s had a party and we didn’t invite them!”**

**When asked about the fairness behind the party, the headmistress herself reported that the Slytherin students and Professor Parkinson coordinated the entire affair, putting in all the work. “It was really beautiful to see the Slytherin students come together and pull off something like this together. I haven’t seen a house come together like this since the war. And it was all so positive!” Lady Parkinson and her students decided together than each student would pay a galleon to bring a friend from another house. A sizable charitable donation was made by the house to SPCMC, the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Magical Creatures.**

**“We’re really pleased to have Pansy join the team here at Hogwarts. She’s clearly doing something right as Head of House, and even my Ravenclaw students aren’t complaining about her teaching abilities. I’m thrilled about the Slytherin house taking on the cause of Magical Creature Protection, and just look how much fun she and Neville [Longbottom] are having. I’m sorry, but I simply must go join the dancing,” commented Luna Scamander, Head of Ravenclaw house and Care of Magical Creatures Professor (photo below). Indeed, the new Herbology and Charms teacher did look rather enthralled with each other (see photo above). Lord Longbottom, the Earl of Longheath, recently went through a rather messy divorce with Hannah Abbott, but one might wonder if Lady Parkinson aims to be the next one to wear his countess’s coronet. His grandmother, the dowager Duchess of Anbauer, could not be reached for comment. The current Duke and Duchess were out of the country and could not be reached for contact. The couple has been living largely outside the public eye since their miraculous recovery six years ago.**

“We made the front page of the society section!” exclaimed Luna, shoving the Prophet in front of Pansy’s nose.

“Oh, that’s a lovely picture of you and Rolf,” said Pansy looking in horror at the large full color photo taking up half the page. She was laughing up at Neville as he smiled down at her with what honestly looked like affection. Her red swirling skirts and his crisp dress robes were pure artistry. The article was sure to have all the society matrons speculating, especially her own mother. What a disaster! This was the last thing she needed considering the plans she already had in motion to secure an heir without a stupid pureblooded husband or bloody coronet.

“You and Neville look magnificent together. I mean, I was there, but… they captured the two of you so perfectly. It reminds me of the pictures of Lord and Lady Malfoy,” sighed Luna. “Thanks for hosting the party.”

“Of course, next term, Ravenclaw should host,” agreed Pansy taking a drink from her pumpkin juice and glaring at the Herbology professor who had just entered the hall.

“Good morning,” he said taking his customary seat next to her at the head table. She wished the head of houses didn’t traditionally sit together. Especially considering Luna and Rolf were married to each other.

“Nice of you to show up,” she huffed.

“Sorry, I had to give some third years detention for using magic in the corridors.”

“Uggh, please tell me it wasn’t any of mine,” she sighed.

“Nope, Luna’s. Argument over an academic issue between two ravenclaws.”

“Save us from swots,” sighed Pansy shaking her head. “Here, prepare yourself, you’re about to be inundated with interrogation owls from the relatives.” Neville’s jaw dropped looking at the photo on front captioned _Is Charms Professor Pansy Parkinson using her charms on Ex-Auror Professor Neville Longbottom? Could a Hogwarts Romance be blossoming?_

“Aunt Enid is going to be insufferable. How do you suppose the prophet missed calling her for comment?”

“Must have been your lucky day. I saw the comments she gave when they wrote up on your divorce.”

“They couldn’t publish what Gran gave them, it wasn’t appropriate for younger readers.”

“I forgot how viciously interested the Prophet is in everything anyone remotely related to the wizegamont titles. I’ve been abroad too long.”

“Surely they’re just as interested in society abroad?”

“Of course, but I was just some nobody professor no one noticed,” laughed Pansy.

“I find that hard to believe,” Neville told her setting aside the paper and tucking it into his robe pocket. She hummed in response and stress ate another stack of French toast.

************************************************************

“When do you have time to organize peer mentored study groups?” whined Luna from her seat across her desk.

“The seventh year prefects helped me with it.”

“Yes, but how did you get the older years to volunteer to peer lead these groups?” Luna used her spoon to gesture and flicked droplets of chocolate ice cream over the exams she was proofing.

“It’s called offering ‘extra credit.’ Several of your ravenclaw students took me up on the opportunity to proof the third year exams just this week.”

“So you’re using bribery?” asked Luna licking her lips.

“I prefer to call it a mutually beneficial exchange, but… sure.”

“I’ll have to try that one out on Rolf,” pondered Luna. “What do you think I should offer him to clean out the thestrel pen?”

“If he was my husband, I’d probably offer to show him my tits,” joked Pansy causing the blonde witch to burst out in laughter.

“But then he would want to touch them, and they’re soooo, sore since I’ve been pregnant.”

“Still?” asked Pansy looking to the witch’s bulging stomach. She was due with twins in November and luckily Hagrid was going to cover her maternity leave for classes, although her head of house duties were to be continued. The pregnancy book didn’t say to expect sore breasts for nine months.

“All the time,” moaned Luna. “I’d teach classes without a top some days if I could. Just having the fabric touch my nipples can be too much.”

“Fuuuuuck,” hissed Pansy, thinking of the pregnancy tests in her bathroom she was planning to take at the end of the week.

“Yeah,” sighed Luna. “Maybe I should offer to suck him off instead.” Pansy hid her laugh with a cough.

“That would probably work as well,” she answered mildly, trying to hide her face by bending lower over the parchment she was grading.

“Alright, well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for letting me stop by and rant,” said Luna licking her ice cream bowl without any shame. “I’m glad we’re friends now. It’s nice to have someone on the staff I can really talk to.” The blonde witch turned and skipped out of the office before Pansy could get over her shock.

“Me too,” she whispered to the empty office, wondering how she’d become friends with the slightly unhinged Ravenclaw so quickly. Luna was probably the first friend she’d made since she could remember.

“Luna told me you’re offering extra credit to the students peer teaching your little study groups,” came a deep voice from the door. Looking up, she saw Neville’s long frame filling her doorway.

“That was fast, I thought she was on a mission to suck off Rolf,” she said, enjoying the look of horror on Neville’s face.

“She’s like a sister to me,” he groaned. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to feed your pornographic fantasies,” she demurred.

“Uggh, I haven’t thought about Luna like that in years,” he complained. “Uggh, you realize we have to work with them?”

“Sorry, it’s just too easy to rile you,” she laughed. “Besides, I read that pregnant women have an elevated libido.”

“Stop talking, I reject your presence,” he complained.

“You’re the one who invaded my office,” she sniffed.

“I’m clearly still outside your office,” he said gesturing to his feet which were in fact still planted in the hallway.

“Anyone ever tell you, you’re childish, Ville,” she said taunting him with the childish nickname she had given him when they were nine.

“Anyone remind you how a _dora_ ble you are when you’re annoyed, Dora?”

She narrowed her eyes at him before losing her composure and smiling. He was irritatingly endearing to be around. He took it as an invitation and settled into the chair recently vacated by Luna and propped his feet up on her desk with that stupid crooked grin of his. With a start she realized she was friends with her childhood nemesis. She watched as he calmly snagged a pepper imp from the jar on her desk.

“Are we actually friends now?” she asked bluntly, causing him to look up from the toffee he was unwrapping, his deep blue eyes piercing.

“No,” he replied bluntly, his eyes hard. She felt her shoulders sag somewhat unexpectedly. “I don’t generally want to shag the snark out of my friends.”

“I beg your pardon?” she gasped.

“Just thought I’d remind you about the sexual tension that lurks below the surface in all our conversations,” he stated matter of factly. “Kind of like a grindylow.” He winked.

“I regret to inform you that any perceived sexual tension is one sided,” she lied, feeling her face heat. “You’ll remember, I’ve already seen your trouser wand. I wasn’t impressed.”

“It’s been quite a while since you’ve seen my trouser wand. I can assure you he’s grown up as much as I did, and he would very much like to be reacquainted with you,” Neville’s grin was pure ancient and most Noble House of Black. Privately she acknowledged she’d walked right into that one.

“Sometimes you really live up to your name, Ville,” she huffed with faked annoyance.

“Fine, we can be _friends_ , Dora,” sighed Neville. “But if you ever want to see the Sword of Gryffindor, you’ll let me know, right?”

“Merlin, you’re incorrigible,” she laughed out loud. “Luna had ice cream earlier. Want to pop down to the kitchens with me?”

“Sure, we can pretend we’re doing rounds,” he agreed. “That’s what I’m supposed to be doing right now anyways.”

“You don’t still like butter pecan, do you?” she asked suddenly.

“There’s nothing _wrong_ with butter pecan!” he protested.

“This friendship is terminated,” she declared as they headed toward the first floor.


	3. Maneuvering around Morning Sickness and Dancing around Attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second Rule of Self Preservation- Avoid addressing the enemy or issue head on. Duck, dive, dodge, deflect, deter, and divert. Also, if no one knows the truth, they cannot hold it against you. Admit to nothing.

It had worked. She was surprised at the relief that washed over her at the positive pregnancy test. The bloodline was secure, as long as nothing went wrong. She had read that perhaps as many as one in four pregnancies didn’t make it to full term. She had decided not to tell anyone until she was in the second trimester. It didn’t however keep her from sporting a secret smile as she headed off to classes for the day.

“You’ve had the look of the kneazle that caught the garden gnome all day,” accused Neville. “Please don’t tell me you’ve come up with yet another plan to make the rest of us head of houses look like layabouts?”

“As a matter of fact,” Pansy’s eyes twinkled mischievously, and she tried not to laugh as Luna and Rolf groaned in unison.

“Don’t worry, she’s lying,” Neville informed them. Pansy narrowed her eyes at him and decided that while she hadn’t come up with something, she was going to enjoy coming up with something before he thought he knew her well enough to tell when she was lying.

“Don’t be too sure of that, Longbottom,” she laughed finishing off the last of her pumpkin juice and getting up. She’d have to brainstorm with the Slytherin Prefects in an emergency meeting tonight before curfew.

“This is going to be amazing!” exclaimed the sixth year prefect Justin Higgins. “This is your best idea yet Parks!” Pansy raised her eyebrows at the nickname she had so far only heard whispers of in the hallways. “I mean, professor Parkinson.” He amended quickly.

“Professor is just fine,” she laughed, trying to hide her smirk. McGonagall had been shortened to the somewhat disrespectful McGee behind her back when she was a student. “Now, I want the fourth years to really take a lead on this one. So many of your classmates are doing the peer tutoring, and I think the younger years are going to get the biggest kick out of this.”

“My sister’s a fourth year. She’s very responsible and she and her friends should be able to pull it off,” seventh year Adam Smith suggested.

“Perfect. Tell her I expect her and whatever team she can pull together to meet with me tomorrow after classes.”

“Maybe we could donate the proceeds to the Potter Foundation for Orphaned Magical Children, considering it’s for Halloween.”

“Wonderful suggestion. Could you ask Vivian to make us a poster to hang up around the school?” suggested Pansy, recalling the sixth year girl was especially talented when it came to her doodles, which Pansy unfortunately found in the margins of a good number of her assignments.

“A haunted house?” demanded Neville, causing her to grin at his irritated expression. “Really?”

“I thought it was fitting, considering the upcoming holiday,” she answered with a shrug. He threw himself into his usual chair.

“You’re going to make a fortune,” he laughed.

“All proceeds will be going to the Potter Foundation for Orphaned Magical Children,” she recited.

“Yes, yes,” he huffed. “But giving students permission to scare the daylights out of each other in Snapes old dungeon apartments,” he shook his head. “That’s brilliant.”

“I quite thought so.” She grinned at him as he settled into the chair and pulled his lesson planner from his bag. He had taken to hiding in her office when McGonagall assigned him post curfew rounds. He made for decent company, and she wasn’t one to tattle. She wasn’t on the inquisitorial squad anymore.

“I thought you were bluffing the other night at dinner,” he commented not looking up from his papers.

“Oh, I was,” she revealed, deeply pleased at the look of annoyance on his face. He let out a sound of irritation before focusing on his work and studiously ignoring her.

They worked in silence for three quarters of an hour before he broke.

“Want to go get some apple crisp from the kitchens?” he said suddenly, causing her to look up in surprise from the essay she had been grading.

“Thought you’d never ask,” she grinned summoning her cloak.

“Too much apple crisp last night?” asked Neville looking at her green face with concern the next morning.

“Do not speak the words apple and crisp to me ever again,” she instructed him in a deadly quiet whisper.

“Do you want some pumpkin juice?” he asked moving to pour her a glass.

“Ugg, not those words either,” she moaned, giving in to the impulse to lay her head on the table, pushing her plate of dry toast out of the way.

“Do you want me to cover your morning class so you can go to the hospital wing?” asked Luna.

“I’ll be fine,” muttered Pansy lifting her head and taking a bite of toast.

“Are you sure? You look positively dreadful,” chimed in Rolf, not helping matters, as per usual.

“I foresee this illness will be a lingering one,” interjected Trelawney dramatically from down the table. “Perhaps related to taking on too many projects at once? Too soon to tell, but it will have a quite painful ending!”

“Of bloody course,” sighed Pansy flopping her head back on the table. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“You sure I can’t get you anything?” murmured Neville quietly. “Maybe you should take on a little help with the whole haunted house thing. The Gryffindor students are really excited about it by the way. I forgot to tell you last night.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a wintergreen wiz stick on you?” she asked, giving into desperation.

“Peppermint imp is the best I’ve got,” he said digging in his pockets. She made a face.

“A lot of use you are,” she sighed. “Wake me when it’s time to head to class.”

Pansy wasn’t exactly pleased to find that morning sickness had hit her like a bludger to the head. Fine one day and completely miserable the next. She didn’t bother showing up for breakfast after that first day, deciding she would much rather suffer alone, in her bedroom, nibbling toast and sipping tea with lemon until it was time to head to classes for the day. And if she was a little green during her morning classes, she was much improved in the afternoon, even though she was limiting her lunchtime diet to the sparse menu of grilled cheese and tomato soup every day, which Longbottom had unfortunately noticed.

“Leave off, Ville,” she snapped as he tried to tempt her with a ham and prosecco on rye with tomato and onion.

“Come on, it’s delicious. You’ve been eating the same boring lunch for the past week!” he complained.

“I’m going to be sick all over you,” she snapped tightly.

“Stop being dramatic,” he laughed, slopping a large scoop of slaw on her plate. The onion and mayo smell was overwhelmingly pungent. Leaning down and over, she promptly emptied her stomach in his lap, just as threatened.

“Fu—dge,” he yelped, attracting the notice of several students sitting toward the front of the hall. “Damn it, Dora,” he complained. “I already had to change my robes once today after working with dragon dung fertilizer all morning!”

She waved her wand weakly, pushing away her plate and laying her head on the table. The mess vanished, although his robes were still damp and orange stained. “I hate you sometimes,” she muttered.

“Want me to see if McG will cover your afternoon?” he asked somewhat apologetically as he cast three subsequent scorgifying charms on his clothes.

“Godric no,” she whined. “But… if you happened to have a wiz stick.”

“At your service my lady,” he said handing her the wand shaped mint candy. He had decided it was best to prepare himself for future requests. 

“Confession, I might love you,” she sighed before sucking on the candy wand.

“Don’t tell my gran, she’ll have the wedding invites owled out before tomorrow,” he joked.

“I told you, I don’t want a husband,” she sighed. “You remember what happened to my Aunt Sylvatica.”

“Okay, don’t you think you’re being a little ridiculous?”

“You didn’t see what happened,” she whispered.

“Dora?” he asked with concern in his voice as the bell rang signaling, they needed to get going to classes.

“Ugggh, thanks for the wiz-stick,” she sighed, getting to her feet and fighting off the slightly light headed feeling. “See you later, Longbottom.”

“Okay, I’m taking you to Poppy,” announced Neville, waking her from what had been a rather luxurious nap. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m not moving unless you attempt to forcibly remove me from this office,” she snapped, her voice less ferocious considering it was still heavy with sleep. "Keep in mind, I've got a wand, and I am not afraid to use it."

“You threw up on me yesterday at lunch and you’ve slept through dinner today.”

“And it was glorious,” she complained as she gave a cat-like stretch. “Why did you wake me?”

“You _missed dinner_!” he exclaimed.

“Dipsy will bring me something to my apartments after a while,” she protested.

“Seriously, you need to get better,” he lectured her. “We need you taking better care of yourself. The students are going to suffer if you aren’t at the top of your game.”

“Don’t worry about me Longbottom. In fact, from what I heard, you might need to be worrying about the blight on the plants in greenhouse three.”

“Oh, I already sorted that this afternoon. It was a slug infestation. Pretty sure I can blame it on Luna’s third years, but I got some repellant from Hogsmeade.”

“Awww, you’ve probably killed someone’s Care of Magical Creatures project.”

“It was killing everyone’s Herbology project,” he shot back. “But… really. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine. Just a little under the weather. I’m certain I’ll be in top shape soon enough. I have an appointment with my healer at St. Mungo’s for next week. I’m certain it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“Alright. Well, let me know if you need me to oversee anything for the haunted house next weekend. I can’t believe you’re letting it run all weekend."

“They’ve been getting it ready for weeks. Everyone is going to want to go. Plus, they spent so long on the rota to make sure everyone who wanted to participate could,” admitted Pansy. “I think nearly every student from every year is involved somehow."

“Harry heard about it. Wants to visit and go through. I think he and Ginny would get a kick out of it considering they named their last one Albus Severus. Plus, it _is_ his foundation.”

“Wouldn’t that be a coup? Harry Potter himself making a special trip to Hogwarts to go through the Slytherin Haunted House.”

“Should I tell him to come visit?”

“They’d love that.”

“Done.”

“Harry Potter wrote the Slytherin students a thank you note for the generous donation and an enjoyable haunted house experience,” Pansy announced, holding the personally signed letter in her hand as she burst into Neville’s office. She never visited him here, and she was shocked that an entire room existed that smelled just like him. It smelled rather nice, which was fairly uncommon as of late considering her nose objected to nearly everything.

“I know you two never got along, but he’s actually a rather nice bloke,” Neville replied looking up in surprise. “Cold?”

“It’s November. It’s officially freezing in this bloody castle, not to mention I had to walk outside to get here.”

“I suppose that’s why I typically visit you?”

“I had some time to kill,” she said taking off her hat and scarf, draping her cloak over the armchair in the corner of his office and inspecting his bookshelves.

“Make yourself at home,” he suggested sarcastically.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she flopped into the chair and summoned a book from her bag.

“Could I get you anything else?” he eyed the way she draped her legs over the arm of the chair with a raised brow.

“Tea and ginger cookies,” she answered not looking up from the book.

“ _Really?_ ”

“Hey, I feed you when you visit my office,” she put in.

“I wasn’t expecting you, and a jar of candy on your desk does not constitute ‘feeding me,’” he protested.

“Why are wizards so helpless?” she sighed. “Dipsy?” she summoned the personal elf assigned to the charms corridor and professor. “Tea and Ginger Newts please. Oh, and a bowl of crisps for Neville.”

“And some butterbeer,” threw in Neville.

“That will be all, thank you,” said Pansy to the eager elf who popped away. She went back to her novel to await the food.

“Is that honestly a novel?” asked Neville a few minutes later when he looked up from grading.

“ _Some_ of us aren’t first year teachers,” she explained. “My grading is done and I’m having a relaxing evening.”

“So you came here?” he asked, a skeptical look on his face.

“Did you want me to leave?” she asked.

“No, and when you do, you can floo back to the castle like a normal person instead of trudging over the cold dark grounds like a lowly student,” he put in, feeling like he had gotten the best of her for once.

“Good idea,” she answered distractedly turning a page in her book.

Luna and Rolf’s apartments were down by the kitchens, right next to the Hufflepuff common room, which was surprising because Pansy had always figured the Hufflepuff students required the least supervision. Rolf was quick to assert that that was not the case as they weren’t as concerned with studying or getting the best of the other houses and had very little ambition sometimes, so the common room often dissolved into a nightly party.

Pansy thought the apartments were rather cozy, and always nice and warm compared to the rest of the castle. The décor was bright yellows and blues, making it seem less enclosed in, considering it didn’t have any real windows. That would bother Pansy, but Luna and Rolf didn’t seem to mind.

“Hi baby,” she cooed gently lifting the tiny baby from Luna’s arms. They other lay contented in his basinet. “Luna, they are precious.” They had a sweet baby smell and their little mouths were just perfect little rosebuds. They both had a head full of blonde hair.

“Neville came by to see them earlier. He said the same thing, so I guess it isn’t just me and Rolf who think so.”

“I’m sure any children of mine will be ill tempered and scream half the time. How you have two such serene baby dolls, well I suppose it isn’t much of a surprise.”

“Daddy said they look just like me,” sighed Luna. “But don’t let them fool you. They cry pitifully when they’re hungry.”

“I’m sure you’re not getting much sleep. Especially since Rolf is still teaching his full schedule and probably isn’t much help.”

“You’re right. Plus, I’m nursing, so I can’t exactly let him get up with them.”

“I read muggles have these pumps that can help you collect milk to save for later. You should ask one of your muggleborn friends to get one for you in London.”

Luna narrowed her eyes at the pureblooded witch. “How do _you_ know about muggle things, Pansy?”

“I read it in a book,” she said, thinking of the thick copy of **What to Expect When You’re Expecting a Little Witch or Wizard** and the _very_ interesting chapter on muggle child rearing techniques that were innovative in the wizarding world. Surely the ravenclaw had done her due diligence reading up on pregnancy and child rearing.

“Hmm… I’ll have to owl Hermione. She was hoping to come by and see the boys sometime soon.”

“Why don’t you go take a nap. I’ll watch them for a little bit,” suggested Pansy noticing the bags under her friend's eyes.

“They did just both eat. Are you certain?”

“We’ll manage. If not, you’re just down the hall. Sleep.”

Pansy summoned Dipsy and directed her to do some light cleaning. Babies it seemed generated more than their fair share of laundry. Conjuring up some flowers to brighten up their kitchen, Pansy tidied the apartments and finding some half graded third year essays, spent the rest of her time doing those for Rolf.

When the babies started to fuss, she changed their nappies and played with a while, but when they started rooting for food, she sighed and went down the hall to find Luna fast asleep.

“So sorry to wake you,” she said knocking against the door frame and startling the blonde witch out of her slumber. “But someone missed you,” she rocked Lorcan gently as he fussed, although he wasn’t all out crying.

“That nap was glorious,” moaned Luna reaching for the baby. “Is Lysander hungry as well?”

“I think so, but I wasn’t brave enough to try carrying two at once. I’ll go get him.”

“Twins are impossible. I don’t know what I would do without Rolf as my extra set of hands sometimes.”

“Want me to come over again tomorrow during my free period so you can get in another nap?”

“I love you,” breathed Luna softly in gratitude.

“Alright, let me just go get your other one and then I’ll be off. I have the first years in twenty minutes, so these guys have good timing.”

“Remind me again whose idea it was to have an end of term Midwinter Masquerade?” demanded Neville from his perch high on a ladder in the Great Hall.

“We both know I’m the one with all the brilliant ideas,” she called back from the ground.

“How am I the one up here doing all the work while you’re down there?”

“I thought you were the big strong Wizard,” she taunted. “Gryffindor afraid of heights?”

“All things considered, I just do better on the ground,” he complained. “You _do_ remember how clumsy I am?”

“No, I forgot my Remembrall in my room this morning,” she teased, privately enjoying the view of his bum from the bottom of the ladder.

“I don’t see why we need fake snow, there’s enough of it outside,” he grumbled for the umpteenth time.

“It’s romantic,” she put in.

“Oh, of course, just what we need,” he conceded with thinly veiled sarcasm.

“Just think, tomorrow they all go back to their parents for three whole weeks,” she said dreamily as he continued with the decorations.

“You going home?”

“To Parkview?” she clarified with a tilt of her head.

“No, to Bulgaria. Yes, of course to Parkview.”

“Probably,” she said slowly. “You going to Longheath?”

“Probably,” he echoed. “Want to come over and help me avoid Gran?”

“I mean, it will probably help me avoid my own parents. Would I get to meet your mum and dad?”

“They’re going to be there, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Huh, that will be weird,” she pondered. “What should I say? Hi, I’m you’re neighbor girl. Neville and I shared tutors growing up and pretty much detested each other, but we work together now, so we’ve been trying to keep things civil.”

“Pretty sure they have a pretty good idea of who you are from that article in the Prophet at the start of term. My mom has only asked about you in her letters about a hundred times.”

“That’s no fun. I wanted to tell them I was a professional quidditch player you met while I was trying to recruit the Gryffindor seeker.”

“Literally no one would believe that.”

“Why not?” she demanded with a pout.

“Pretty sure you’re about as adept on a broom as I am. If I remember correctly from the flying lessons we had when we were ten.”

“That instructor didn’t know beans.”

“Probably didn’t help that I was terrified and you were convinced the entire thing was too unladylike to be bothered with.”

“Confession, I’m the one terrified of heights,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Pretty sure I knew that, why do you think _I’m_ the one up on this ridiculously high ladder?” He gestured to himself and she grinned. “Left foot Longbottom up on a ladder?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t spoil your reputation and tell everyone that you finally grew into your body, just like you grew into your magic. Plus, I thought you were up there so I could enjoy this view of your bum.”

“I didn’t exactly grow into my magic,” he confessed giving his bum a playful wiggle and making her laugh. “The night my parents were tortured, my dad cast a magic suppressing spell on me so that the Lestranges wouldn’t find me in the hidden cupboard of the safehouse. When I accidentally snapped his wand in fifth year, things got much easier. Especially considering I was trying to use the wand that had cast the original spell.”

“Huh,” she looked up at him with a frown. “Too bad you didn’t manage to snap that wand a few years earlier. Bet you could have gotten a few more OWLs.”

“Kind of a miracle to be honest,” he laughed. “So about my bum…”

“Thank’s so much for having me over,” she gushed brushing herself off after stepping from the floo.

“Not like you really gave me much of a choice. You sent me an owl twenty minutes ago informing me of your imminent arrival.”

“Mum and dad are going a bit spare right now. I had to get away,” she confessed thinking of her parent’s reaction to her pregnancy announcement. Especially considering they had apparently gotten the completely wrong idea from the articles in the prophet, the one yesterday having been absolutely no help as it had once again highlighted a rather elegant picture of her and Neville dancing at the Midwinter ball, this time her deep green robes complimenting his festive red and green ensemble. Luna had decided they looked like a fairytale couple when Pansy had popped by to see her and the twins one last time before heading out for the holidays. Her parents had decided it looked like a declaration of courtship.

“I’ve just been getting the greenhouse in order,” he said as they wove through the manor house toward the greenhouses. “I think Gran let it go wild as a form of revenge for leaving the Aurors.”

“Doubtful, according to mum she’s been bragging for months that you’re one of the first Hogwarts professors to be hired in without a mastery in over a hundred years. Not accounting for defense against the dark arts of course.”

“News to me,” laughed Neville, the tips of his ears burning red with pleasure as he led her back to the corner of the greenhouse where he was working on his pruning.

“What do you think of the Scamander Twins?” asked Pansy laying back on a bench under a flowering arbor.

“Cute. They have Luna’s eyes, but I suspect they’re going to look just like their da,” he said picking up his sheers and getting back to work.

“What do you think it will be like for them being raised at Hogwarts?” she asked casually. The friendships she was making at Hogwarts were making her consider staying despite knowing that Durmstrang was eager to offer her her old position.

“Probably a lot less lonesome than it was for us growing up here.”

“I wasn’t lonely. I had my cousin Theo and Draco.”

“You were lonely. That’s the only thing that explains how you ended up spending so much time with _me_.”

“I admit to nothing,” she said giving him a side eye before pulling out her wand and charming a nearby plant into an elaborate living floral sculpture.

“Stop using charms on my plants,” he finally groused. “They’re very sensitive.”

“Make me,” she deadpanned, charming a nearby bush into the bust of a vaguely familiar wizard. He tilted his head and squinted.

“Don’t you have some sort of salacious romance novel to read?” he suggested.

“No, but I’m sure I could find one of your gran’s to borrow,” she teased.

“For as much as you love those silly books, someone might accuse you of being a romantic.”

“Shut your mouth,” she laughed.

“It’s just… have you really been single the entire time you were gone? There was never even a whisper of your named linked to anyone else’s.”

“You mean until September when everyone started speculating about us?” she asked.

“It’s just… you always had such a romantic heart, and then you were half in love with Draco in school, and then… nothing.”

“The war changed us all,” she said quietly, and he shot her a knowing look.

“Did you ever?” he broke off, shuddering at the memory. “You never spoke to anyone after the war?”

“Nev, I can’t talk about it,” she said after a long pause. “You were… You’re the only one that knows.”

“How is that possible?” he asked.

“You only know because you were there,” she snapped.

“You should see a mind healer,” he suggested.

“I hardly ever think of it,” she shrugged off his suggestion.

“He was hurting you,” growled Neville. “He had you tied up…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she insisted harshly.

“He was a monster and you were a child.”

“I was seventeen. I was an adult,” she conjured up a pillow for behind her neck on the hard wooden bench.

“How long had it been going on?” he finally asked, stepping away from the bushes he was pruning as he realized his anger at the topic had him a little more aggressive than he needed to be with the poor roses.

“A while,” she confessed. “But never again. After that. I think he was afraid you’d be back.”

“Good.”

“Was that the only time during the war you used an unforgivable?” she asked quietly, fiddling with her wand.

“It’s the only time I meant it,” he admitted. “He knew I put a monitoring spell on him. After.”

“I wondered.”

“I worried about you, you know,” he tilted his head and wondered if he should acknowledge that she was crying.

“I survived,” she answered blandly.

“I used to wake up surprised I was still alive,” chuckled Neville thinking of the days following the final battle.

“I used to wake up disappointed I was still alive,” she joked back, but the words rang with sincerity. “Switzerland was good for me. It’s rather lovely there.”

“I’m going to take a research trip this summer, maybe I’ll have to stop there on my way to Siberia.” HE changed the subject, unable to ignore her tear streaked face much longer.

“What’s in Siberia?” she asked.

“Magical plants that can survive the extreme cold and harsh winters. I’m going to take some samples and then Draco and I are going to do an investigation on any potential healing properties.”

“Draco’s such a swotty healer anymore.”

“He was always just behind Hermione in marks. Pretty sure he was always swotty.”

“Can I be there when you tell him that?” she begged.

“Are you hungry?” he asked suddenly.

“Does Hermione Granger love books?” she answered.

“I’ll take that as a yes, even though it’s Granger-Weasley now.”

“Do your house elves still make those tea cakes?”

“Does my gran still wear her vulture hat?”


	4. Keeping your friends close or your enemies closer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "As a matter of self-preservation, a man needs good friends or ardent enemies, for the former to instruct him and the later to take him to task." Pansy wasn't sure which Longbottom was, but perhaps both adages applied.

Pansy and Neville had spent three more days holed up in his greenhouse. She had brought some books and had charmed the bench into a perfectly comfortable chaise where she had spent her days enjoying all the tea cakes and hot tea she could want and reading her ‘salacious’ romance novels.

“Thoughts on fourth years to nominate as prefects for next year?” Neville asked suddenly.

“Too soon to tell,” she said taking a bite of the juicy peach the house elves had brought her.

“All the Gryffindor boys are too much trouble. I don’t know how I’m going to select,” he complained.

“They all look up to Jones. He’s most likely the one to keep the others in line if you give him a sense of responsibility. But, I would wait it out a bit.” He nodded and disappeared to the other end of the large greenhouse.

“Hello,” came an unfamiliar female voice, a few minutes later just as Pansy bit into her second peach, startling her out of her book and causing her to flush and wipe at the peach juice on her chin.

“Hallo,” she said quickly swallowing the fruit and getting to her feet. The blonde witch was clearly Neville’s mum, a short round faced woman with Neville’s bright blue eyes. She’d seen pictures, but it was strange to see the woman who had been a ghost through her childhood in the flesh.

“I was looking for Nev,” the woman said by way of explanation.

“Oh, he’s about here somewhere. He’s been letting me hide out here,” she waved in the general direction he’d disappeared to in the green foliage.

“You’re Violet and Pallas’s daughter,” Alice said with a grin. “Pansy.”

“Yes, Neville and I work together, at Hogwarts,” Pansy wasn’t sure why she was suddenly reduced to a complete idiot.

“Dora, have you seen my wand?” called Neville from somewhere in the greenhouse.

“Behind your ear!” she called back with a shake of her head.

“Why don’t you order tea?!” he echoed, clearly having found his misplaced wand.

“Would you like to join us for tea?” she turned to his mother whose wide smile looked just like Neville’s.

“Of course! I can’t wait to hear about how school has been going. And let me say the pictures in the paper didn’t do justice to you!” Pansy patted the messy curls she’d pulled back at the top of her head self-consciously.

“Mother!” exclaimed Neville, a look of shock on his face as he emerged from around the corner to find his mother and Pansy presiding over tea, sandwiches and cakes.

“Hello, Neville, darling,” said Alice rising and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Wiping his hands down with a magical towel, he sat down and looked to Pansy in question.

“I didn’t realize you were joining us,” he finally said to his mother when she quirked an eyebrow in answer and handed him a full plate.

“Just got back from Italy. Your father is napping and I thought I would search you out. I found Pansy here instead. We’ve been getting to know each other.”

“Good luck with that,” he hid his smile with a large bite of sandwich. Pansy had ordered his favorite. Pansy made a face at him and rolled her eyes.

“Your mum is under the delusion we were friends as children,” laughed Pansy.

“Gran’s memory must finally be going,” he chuckled. “Pansy here lived to torture me, and considering she was the only person I’d ever met under the age of fifty, I think I desperately wished she was my friend.”

“But you’ve been getting along since you’ve become coworkers,” prompted Alice looking at the obvious friendship between the two of them.

“I tolerate him at this point,” sighed Pansy dramatically. “After nearly twenty seven years of knowing each other, I’m used to him.”

“So the papers were incorrect in suspecting a romance was blossoming?” Alice seemed visibly deflated.

“Dora isn’t generous enough with her affections to offer me even a charity shag,” joked Neville, making Pansy laugh and his mother raise her eyebrows.

“Hate to break it to you, Longbottom, but every shag’s a charity shag with you.”

“Ouch, someone didn’t forget to take their pepper up potion this morning,” he said clutching his heart as if wounded. "Pansy and I are both too emotionally damaged for any of that romance nonsense," Neville said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Pansy hummed in agreement taking a bite of her sandwich. 

“How was your trip to Italy?” asked Pansy turning back to Alice with laughter in her eyes. A change in subject was most needed.

“Oh, wonderful!” Alice said breaking into a description of her trip.

“I’m napping,” complained Pansy a handful of days later.

“Want to go do something? We could go shopping in Diagon? We could go get soused at the Hog’s Head.”

“I’m off drinking,” she protested.

“You’ve done nothing but lay about and read all break. We need to get out,” complained a restless Neville. “Besides, there’s really not much left to do in here.” She cracked an eye and looked at him from her cozy chaise.

“I’m tired though,” she complained.

“Too tired for ice cream?” he asked, knowing her weaknesses.

“Curse you,” she muttered rolling off the chaise and onto her feet.

“Side along?” he asked holding out his hand. Taking his arm, she tried to ignore the tingling of awareness that shot through her, stronger than usual.

Landing in Diagon, they quickly skirted an oncoming couple in the crowded street, slipping along the alley. Arriving at Fortescue’s she pulled him inside.

“Ohhh, it’s been years,” she moaned looking through the glass topped case, pressing her fingers to the cool glass. “How many flavors can I have?” she sounded just like the children in line ahead of them.

“Godric, Dora, you’re a grown witch. As many as you like,” he laughed. She bent low over the case and he watched her lips mouth out the flavor names reverently. He adjusted himself discretely as he watched her bite her lip in indecision. 

“Wotcher Nev,” came a voice from behind them. Spinning Neville smiled in greeting at Harry and his young son James.

“Hey there,” he grinned at his old Auror partner. “How’s it working out with the new guy?”

“Work’s good. How’s Hogwarts?”

“Great, never better. Sprout made things easy for me. James, you’re getting so big, surely your Hogwarts letter will be coming soon!”

“Hey now, let’s not rush things,” laughed Harry as the four year old launched into an explanation of why he wanted to go to Hogwarts so he could play quidditch.

“Is that so?” Neville nodded as James finished explaining why he should get to play quidditch with his cousin Teddy every day instead of only on days they were at his house. “And what kind of ice cream will you be getting today?”

“I’ve narrowed it down to five!” exclaimed Pansy from his other side, causing him to turn. “Peanut butter and Strawberry jam, Centaur Tracks, Raspberry Dream, Peruvian Dark Chocolate, and Pistachio.”

“Sure you’ll be able to manage all that?” asked Nev skeptically raising a single practiced eyebrow.

“Are you doubting?” she rolled her eyes and looked longingly at the lemon sherbet. “Maybe you could get lemon sherbet.”

“I think I’ll have my usual,” he shook his head.

“But butter pecan is so boring,” whined Pansy and Potter at the same time, causing them to look each other in the eye and take notice of each other. Pansy immediately looked away and lowered her eyes to the case. Sensing her discomfort with the situation, Neville stepped closer, putting a hand at the small of her back. Looking to Harry he saw the man was sporting a rather puzzled expression.

“Hello there,” Harry said thrusting his hand out in a way only famous people ever did, assuming their introduction was wanted. “I’m Harry, used to work with Neville, here.”

Pansy’s eyes flashed with amusement and mischievousness as she looked up at Neville and then Harry. Neville bit back a groan. “Harry? _The_ Harry Potter?” she gushed taking his hand and shaking it enthusiastically. “Look, Nev, I’m shaking Potter’s hand! No one will ever believe this!”

“Dora,” protested Neville bursting into laughter. “Harry, don’t let her have you on.”

“I feel like I’m missing something?” Harry’s eyes went between the two of them, the green orbs glittering with acuity. “Is this your new girl?”

“He’s funnier than I remember,” murmured Pansy in Neville’s ear causing him to laugh. And to the outsider, with her clinging on Neville’s arm and whispering in his ear, she supposed she could see how Potter could get the wrong idea.

“She’s already made you laugh more than I remember hearing you laugh in quite a while,” Harry put in. “You better hold onto this one.”

“Oh, and is this one yours?” asked Pansy suddenly noticing James with his nose pressed against the glass.

“Yeah, James say hi to Miss Dora,” Potter prompted the boy who turned and said hello before looking back at the ice cream.

“Looks nothing like Weaselette does he?” Pansy pondered out loud.

“Do I _know_ you?” Potter narrowed his eyes behind his glasses.

“Ohhh!” Pansy started as the shopkeeper asked what she wanted. “A sundae with PB and strawberry Jam, Centaur Tracks, Raspberry Dream, Peruvian Dark Chocolate, and Pistachio. With sprinkles and hot fudge.”

“Godric, Dora. You’re going to be sick all over my robes again,” complained Neville.

“Shut up, Longbottom,” she snapped. “He’ll have a double scoop of butter pecan, caramel syrup and whipped cream with a couple of extra cherries.” She winked at the shopkeep before turning to Harry. “So predictable. Same order since we were seven.”

“Parkinson?” sputtered Harry recognizing the witch finally.

“Draco’s going to find this hilarious,” she told Neville with the most slytherin of smirks.

“You two are friends?” Potter was completely flabbergasted.

“Oh, no,” snorted Neville. “We’re lifelong frenemies. Pretty sure she only tolerates me because I feed her and provide a place to hide from her parents.” Pansy smacked Nev on the arm but then nodded at Potter’s still shocked face.

“Mostly true,” she said reaching for the enormous sundae being passed over the counter. “He’s loaded. Have him pay for yours as well,” she suggested before flouncing to a nearby table where her moan of appreciation that echoed through the store rather salaciously.

“That will be three galleons, sir,” said the shopkeep as Neville handed over the money and accepted his Sundae.

“I’m in shock,” Potter was still stunned.

“We’ve known each other since we were children. I know it’s hard to believe but she’s actually a pretty good friend,” Nev said gently as the shopkeeper took James’ order with patience.

“But… It’s Parkinson… She… Are you sure this isn’t just some sort of rebound from everything with Hannah?”

“Ha!” honked Neville. “She’s been quite vocal that she’s not in the market for a pureblooded husband, or lover.”

“This is the same Parkinson that draped herself over Malfoy for seven years?” Potter looked back over his shoulder to find Pansy completely engrossed in her sundae.

“Look Harry, we’re friends you and I. Her and I have… a complicated relationship. You see… I’ve always been wildly attracted to her, and she tolerates my presence. In school she was so far above me it was laughable, and now… well… the playing fields have evened. Now I’m not looking for a wife, but an adorable coworker who wants to _join me in my office_ for a _nightcap_? That woman was my fantasy for half my life. Pretty sure I’m not going to pass up the chance to act on it.”

“So this is about S.E.X. for you?” asked Harry quietly.

“Well…. Right now she’s offered to help me mark exams, which… at this point might be just as good. I mean, you’ve always been good friends with Hermione. Even if it’s just platonic forever.”

“Mate… I hate to tell you but that woman is using you for ice cream. And I never _ever_ had a single dirty thought about Hermione.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” sighed Neville with a forlorn grin before walking over to the table while Harry paid.

“This was genius level idea, Longbottom,” she informed him taking another bite of her ice cream.

“Yeah uncle Nev, Ice cream is always a good idea,” James plopped down at their table and Harry was forced to follow.

“Ohhh, nice choice in flavors,” said Pansy looking James’ Sundae over.

“What’s the green one in yours?” he asked poking toward her sundae with his spoon.

“Here,” she flicked her wand and a small amount landed in his dish. “It’s pistachio, we need to teach you to like green things early.”

“Lady Pandora here is head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts,” explained Neville to James as the boy tried the green ice cream. Harry started coughing, whether at her full name or the fact she was a Hogwarts professor, Neville wasn’t sure.

“Call me Pansy,” she instructed the boy with a wink. “Only Neville and my grandmother have ever called me Pandora.”

“No, he calls you Dora,” put in James. “Like Teddy’s mum.”

“Huh, I suppose he does. Unless he’s trying to make me mad.”

“Like when dad calls mummy Ginevra?”

“Probably,” laughed Pansy giving Harry a side eye. He was startled to see she seemed completely normal after all these years. Certainly he’d interacted with Draco since, but… Pansy had always seemed rather… vicious.

“So you two used to be partners?” Pansy looked between Harry and Neville with a look of interest.

“Yes,” said Neville. “For six years.”

“The wonderboy duo,” she snorted digging back into her ice cream.

“They didn’t call us that,” protested Neville. “I think they called us the golden boys.”

“Close enough.”

Harry was still in a state of shock as Pansy practically dragged Neville toward the bookstore claiming she needed some new reading material. Neville waved and threw a shrug in Harry’s direction following the dark haired beauty into the second hand shop.

"Potter's kid is surprisingly cute," she said after a few minutes of silent perusal of the herbology section where she had allowed him to drag her. 

"Yeah, the younger one, Albus, looks just like him."

"You seem to like kids, the students, the Scamander twins, Potter's sprog," she said casually. "Which is surprising that you don't want them for yourself."

"It's... different..." he said, scratching the back of his neck in a complete tell.

"No, you want them don't you!" she accused. "What happened with Abbot? Did you want them and it didn't work out?"

"Look, do we have to talk about Hannah?" he flushed and looked around the empty shop. Picking up a book, he flipped through it dismissively.

"I mean, if you want to keep it bottled up forever, we can arrange that. But, I saw the look of longing when Potter washed the ice cream off his son's face."

"Fine," he snapped. "I wanted kids and Hannah didn't. She said they were an inconvenience to our lifestyle and they would ruin her body and make her old before her time." 

"I'm so sorry, Nev," Pansy said softly after his outburst. He pretended to concentrate on the back cover of a random book he had selected while ignoring the soft hand on his arm. Her small hand wrapped around his bicep and she hugged herself to his side in a surprising gesture of comfort. He pulled his arm closer to his body and trapped her hand in place, unmoving for a few minutes while he finished pretending to scan the back cover of a book he was now committed to getting despite having no clue what it was about. 

"Susan told me that Ernie and Hannah are already trying," he finally choked out. 

"That bitch is stupider than I thought," Pansy's voice dripped with disgust, and Neville managed a sad smile, pleased to know that he had at least one friend who wouldn't try and downplay it. Luna, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Susan, any of them would have told him it wasn't about him, and that the timing wasn't right. None of them would have come out and said that though. "Do you think you'll try again?"

"No," he sighed after a moment. "That chapter of my life is over. It would take a rather wreckless kind of courage to put myself out there like that again."

"Glad to see some of my self preservation techniques are wearing off on you," she laughed leaning her head against his shoulder. "What about children though. You don't have to give up on that?"

"Don't you think I have enough innocent children under my care?" he laughed. 

"Mmmm, the professor does make a rather good point," she said in a perfect imitation of a particularly swotty Ravenclaw fifth year. They both laughed and she decided it was time to drag him to another section of the store. 

Pansy and Neville ended up returning to the castle a little early. Honestly, having been pestered incessantly by their families hadn’t made for the best holiday. With the excuse that they were required back early, they had the castle to themselves considering Minerva had closed it to students for the holidays.

“I always kind of wondered what the Gryffindor common room looked like,” she commented from the fluffy sofa in front of the fire. “It’s nicer than I thought it would be.”

“Harry said the same thing about the slytherin common room.”

“We should hang out there tomorrow,” she suggested going back to her book while he poured over his unfinished lesson plans.

“Maybe. I don’t understand how you can possible have all your lessons for the term prepared.”

“I’ve been doing this a while.”

They enjoyed a companionable silence for a while before she interrupted. “Neville?”

“Hmm….”

“Is it really good as they say?”

“Is what as good as they say, Dora?”

“Sex,” she said finally drawing his full attention. He coughed and scratched at his neck awkwardly.

“I mean surely…”

“Not since everything with Professor Carrow.”

“Dora… that wasn’t. You can’t use that as… he was hurting you.”

“I _know_. I’m just… I never had a burning desire to find out if it was as good as everyone claimed.” She held up her book. “Surely it’s not like Nora Bobs makes it sound.”

“Umm… Wouldn’t this be a better question for Luna?”

“She’s not due back till next week when the students come back,” complained Pansy.

“I mean, I’m not an expert. I mean, for guys, I’m going to go with yes. And for… witches. I mean, Hannah was apparently interested enough to get some on the side,” he confessed.

“So much for the Hufflepuff loyalty,” snarked Pansy.

“So I mean, it must be decently great… with the right person anyways,” he stumbled over his answer, his face redder than usual. They had sexually charged conversations but this was outside his realm of expertise. “Any particular reason for the burning question you couldn’t wait to ask Luna?”

“So are men just horny all the time?” she questioned.

“Pretty much,” he laughed.

“I’m so sorry. This is miserable,” she commiserated.

“Wait, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he suddenly perked up and looked over at her. “I mean, I’m available if you need a hand.”

“Seriously Longbottom?” she sighed. “I’m not that desperate.” He sighed and went back to his papers. “Yet.” She muttered. She’d read about increased libido during the second trimester, but she was turned on constantly. It didn’t help she had spent most of the past two weeks with Longbottom who happened to smell absolutely delicious. But it would be a very bad idea to ruin their recent friendship.

The next day they were sitting in his living room in the Herbologist’s cottage. Today they were both working on school work, because Pansy had requested her fifth years owl in their holiday essay by today so she could grade them before they got back. They had been stuck inside with the bad weather and both had been particularly grumpy after little sleep the night before. Both of them blamed it on the late night hot chocolate the night before, and they had been bickering all afternoon about whose idea spicy hot chocolate had been at eleven o’clock at night.

“So,” he said leaning over and peering at the essay over her shoulder. “What are you going to plan this term to make me look bad.”

“I don’t have to plan anything to make you look bad. You’re capable of that all on your own,” she declared making several red marks on the essay.

“What’s it going to be? A Valentine’s day extravaganza? An interhouse snowball fight in the forbidden forest? An ice hockey league on the Black Lake?” He ticked ideas off on his fingers.

“You’re just full of ideas,” she laughed. “Maybe I _should_ challenge Gryffindor house snowball fight.”

“What’s the prize when I win?” he asked with a dark grin as he leaned over her.

“When _I_ win, you take on my rounds rota for a full month,” she said pushing him back to his side of the sofa and leaning over him, her curls hanging forward and brushing his cheek.

“When _I_ win, you’re going to do all my grading for a month,” he declared, his dark blue eyes sparkling with delight. He pulled playfully on one of her springy dark curls.

“We’ll see about that,” she said jabbing her finger in his chest. He looked down at her manicured nail jabbing at his warm sweater-clad chest. Looking back up, he let his eyes linger at the scrap of cleavage visible above the v of her sweater. Looking into her eyes, he noted the intense look in her violet eyes and her rapid breathing. With a curse under his breath, he allowed his Gryffindor boldness to take over. Reaching up, his hand clasped around the back of her neck and pulled her lips to his, crushing her to him in a heady clashing of lips.

Her hands immediately went to his hair as he pulled her to him and sprawled them over the sofa, papers falling forgotten to the floor. He ran his hand over her shoulder and down to her trim bum covered in that silly navy skirt. He squeezed and enjoyed the hum of approval in her throat as he trailed the hand back up her side to cup her breast. She gasped and his lips lost contact with hers, searching out the pulse on the side of her neck instead.

“Damn it,” she sighed. “We can’t be doing this.” His lips nibbled at her neck and she arched into the sensation. "We are professors," she protested mildly.

“Why not?” he asked, trailing his tongue along her collar bone. “Luna and Rolf do it all the time.”

“Merlin, you’re dense, that’s different,” she protested as he ground her hips down on him and massaged her bum at the same time.

“What, you already told me you weren’t angling for the title. This isn’t a proposal of marriage, Dora.”

“So this is no strings attached?” she insisted her violet eyes meeting his in sincerity.

“Whatever you want, just, as long as you don’t stop,” he begged into her hair as she ground herself against him.

“No one knows, and I say when it’s over?”

“Yes,” he breathed as she ran her hands over his chest.

“And you’ll do my rounds and my grading when Gryffindor loses to Slytherin in the snow war?”

“Salazar’s balls, you’re really manipulating me right now?” he growled with a breath of a laugh.

“Is it working?” She arched a perfect dark brow as she leaned back and pulled her lavender sweater over her head. He groaned and sagged against the sofa.

“This is like every fantasy from fifth year come to life,” he breathed as she reached behind to unhook the emerald green bra.

“Fifth year?” she tilted her head and her curls against the pale skin of her shoulder distracted him again.

“When Gryffindor _wins_ the snow war, _you_ are going to do my rounds and my grading for a whole month.”

“Really?” she asked, finally unclasping the bra and sliding it off in a practiced movement.

“They’re bigger than I thought they’d be,” he said gingerly reaching out and cupping her breast, tracing a finger over the rosy peak. She inhaled sharply as he leaned in and kissed her again while gently running his fingers over the sides of her breasts, proving just how sensitive they were.

“You’re wearing more clothes, than I thought you would be,” she huffed pulling at the hem of his sweater.

“So impatient,” he laughed, pulling her against him for a deep kiss.

“You told me I only had to ask if I wanted to see the sword of Gryffindor,” she whined rocking against him.

“Fuuuuck,” he muttered, pushing her off him and standing to strip off his sweater, tossing it on the back of the sofa. She looked up at him with her black curls tousled, completely topless, her high waisted skirt barely brushing the tops of her thighs and revealing a strip of skin above her thigh high stockings. Unbuckling his belt he took her all in, laying back against the dark green sofa, the soft firelight making her skin glow.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy about showing me your trouser wand, _now,_ ” she raised and eyebrow as she adjusted herself against the cushions, lifting her hips a little.

“We were five,” he reminded her darkly as he deliberately undid the button on his trousers.

“I was wearing purple knickers that day too,” she commented dryly, holding up a pair of lacy purple knickers for him to observe.

“How’d you manage that?” he demanded.

“Well, I certainly didn’t use a magical trouser wand,” she taunted setting her wand aside and tossing the knickers aside. Shucking his trousers, he grinned at the wide eyed expression on her face.

“I…” she sputtered as he sat back down on the sofa and pulled her back into his lap.

“I told you not to mock the sword of Gryffindor,” he whispered into her ear before biting it gently, running his hands along the sides of her thighs and up under her skirt to cup her bare bum.

“You have _got_ to stop calling it that,” she pretested as he kissed his way down her neck to press kisses to her breasts as his fingers found her center, wet and ready for him. He pressed his thumb to her causing her to gasp and arch herself into his mouth. He thrilled in the noises she was making in the back of her throat. Little mewling gasps that echoed his fantasies from his school days.

“Dora, this is the part where you have to tell me to stop or agree that you want this.”

“Nev,” she sobbed, grinding against his hand. “I want it. Please.” He pulled her down and groaned in her ear giving them time to adjust. Hands on her hips, he helped her set a rhythm that had both of them gasping and quickly coming to completion, sagging back into the sofa. 

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked desperately, finally opening his eyes to find her eyes watery.

“No, it’s perfect, you even let me be on top,” she confessed. “It’s… it feels good. It doesn’t hurt. You were gentle.”

“Generally a lot less pain involved when you’re writhing in pleasure and not pain from the torture curse,” he growled, his hand tightening painfully on her arm.

“Don’t… I don’t want…”

“You’re right. We aren’t going to think about that. Fuck, Dora, that was amazing.”

“You, Neville Longbottom, are a man of many unexpected talents.”

“Figures you’d be outstanding at this too, Parkinson,” he teased.

“That was a given,” she agreed letting him pull her down on top of him as he laid them down on the sofa and summoned a blanket over them. He pressed his lips to her temple and she let herself completely relax against his warm strong body.

Two days later, they still hadn’t left his cottage, but the rest of the staff was due back tomorrow.

“Merlin Dora, you’re insatiable. How did you get along before me?” he asked collapsing back against the pillows of his bed where she had lured him after a rather brief attempt to finish his seventh year lesson plans for the term.

“I don’t remember,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Sure you didn’t consume a lust potion on accident or something?”

“Something like that,” she laughed. “I just didn’t expect you to be so good at this.”

“Stop stroking my ego,” he joked.

“You’re right, you gryffindors tend to be an insufferable lot when you get cocky.”

“Did you say cocky?” he bragged.


	5. Trouser Wands and other ideas for improving exam scores

“I see you finally shagged Neville over break,” commented Luna casually a few mornings later.

Pansy sprayed pumpkin juice over the table and began coughing as she had inadvertently let some down the wrong pipe.

“What?” she finally gasped, staring wide eyed at the Ravenclaw head of house next to her as she pseudo-casually vanished the pumpkin juice.

“I won’t bother to ask how it was because I can clearly remember he was…. Magnificent.” The ravenclaw licked her lips and eyed the empty seat next to her. “Not as good as Rolf, but we didn’t have real chemistry.”

“Oh Merlin,” gasped Pansy.

“I mean, you’ve been able to cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a dull butter knife all year. I’m surprised you didn’t burn down the castle,” Luna pondered dreamily.

“Lower your voice,” begged Pansy. “There was no spontaneous combustion.”

“Oh… so you didn’t let him shag your brains out?”

“Oh… well I did… but…”

Luna lit up with glee. “So you’re finally together then,” she squealed.

“Oh, no… we’re just friends with benefits,” clarified Pansy, causing the blonde witch’s face to fall. “It would be much too complicated if we actually liked each other.”

“Friends like each other,” protested Luna.

“No, I mean… well… you know what I mean. He’s still not over everything that happened with Hannah, and I don’t need anything complicated, my life is already too complicated. We both need this to be casual.”

“I don’t think either of you are the casual sort,” observed Luna.

“In this case we are, _very_ casual,” she emphasized.

“Whatever you say. But let me know when the wedding’s going to be. Rolf and I are going to be going on an expedition to Sweden this summer and I’ll need to organize an international portkey.”

“There is no wedding,” argued Pansy. “No international portkey.”

“What’s this about an international portkey?” asked Neville, arriving, fresh from the shower, his hair still damp and smelling of his shampoo. She turned to glare at him before pushing away from the table.

“Have a good first day of term, Longbottom,” she bit out tightly.

“Someone’s cranky this morning,” he said with a low whistle.

“Did you keep her up too late shagging last night?” Luna asked him innocently after Pansy had stormed away causing him to choke on his eggs.

“Warn me before you say shit like that!” he complained taking his coffee cup and a pastry to go. He’d have breakfast in his office. Biting into a breakfast sandwich and carrying it between his teeth, he left the Ravenclaw head of house on their side of the teacher’s table alone. Looking down at the students, Luna pouted that Rolf was stuck in their apartments with the babies. Abandoning her breakfast she hurried off to tell him the good news.

***************************************************************************

“Luna knows,” she informed him irritatedly as he slipped into her bed after finishing up with rounds.

“I know. Could have warned me,” he accused, wrapping his arm around her.

“She’s perceptive. Think McGonagall knows?”

“She’s too busy. She’s barely around anyways. Who’s going to tell her? A house elf?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure we’re probably breaking all kinds of rules.”

“What? No having sexual congress between coworkers?” he snorted. “Luna and Rolf are clearly in violation of that one.”

“I don’t know! We are clearly not being the best role models,” she protested as he flipped her on her back and began distracting her, the sensual glide of his warm hands pushing away the tension of the first day back.

“You know what happens to people that break the rules?” he asked leaning down and tickling her ear with his breath.

“They get fired,” she retorted scraping her nails across his back as he ran his tongue over her bare breasts. “And publicly humiliated in the daily prophet.”

“No,” he gave her a dark grin, barely visible in the moonlight. “They’re punished. And you’ve been a _very_ bad girl, Pandora.”

“Nev!” she called out, arching off the bed as he set to work on a very pleasurable punishment.

**********************************************************************

“It’s called capture the flag,” she announced to her house for the first house meeting of the year. “It’s popular with muggles, and we’re going to win.”

“Why are we doing this again?”

“Because if I win, Longbottom is going to do my rounds for an entire month, and all my grading,” she said deviously. “Oh, and I’m awarding a hundred house points to the winning team.” That certainly got their attention.

“No wands. We’re going to collect them prior to the start. The only weapons allowed will be those made of snow.

“When is this going to be?” asked a particularly studious fifth year. “It’s OWL year and I have a study table to stick to.”

“Last Saturday of January,” she announced. “We’re going to prepare ahead of time though. And that doesn’t leave this room.” She looked pointedly around the room, meeting the eyes of every student. “The sixth years and I are going to choose a location on the other side of the lake and we’re going to use charms to build a sturdy fortress for us to keep our flag, among other supplies. Completely of snow of course,” she watched the grins appear as the students nodded along. “No sense in not being prepared for battle. Fourth years, we’ll stock the fortress with snowballs the week before. Those water orb charms we did last term should work with snow as well. We’ll build up a little supply. As for the rest of you. You might owl your parents asking for a nice pair of gloves with a good internal warming charm.”

“This is going to win us the house cup for the first time in over seven years,” announced one of the seventh years, spurring more murmurs among the younger years.

“Alright, so that’s all for now. I posted the peer study group schedule on the board. The rest of you can go about your business, but if my quidditch team might stick around.” The crowd dispersed, her quidditch team drawing close eager to hear what she had for them.

“I put in for your practice requests,” she handed the schedule to her captain, Wadcock. “And while Professor Longbottom and I agreed we wouldn’t allow wands on the playing field, we never explicitly declared brooms off limits. We’re going to use you as our secret weapon. Once we’ve located their flag, we’re going to capture it from the air.” Her seeker, Hornsby rubbed her hands together with a sly grin.

“Mission accepted, General,” Hornsby said gleefully.

“Excellent,” she smirked and gave them all a quirk of her eyebrows in dismissal as she exited the common room.

******************************************************************************

“The entire slytherin house has taken to calling you, General Parkinson,” announced Neville, leaning against the doorway of her office.

“Really?” she asked with false surprise. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard what they’re calling you then.”

“Do I want to know?” he fell into the armchair across from her, his broad shoulders and long frame filling the small space with his presence.

“House Enemy Number 1.”

“I’ll have to let Harry know I’ve surpassed him as Slytherin’s most wanted.”

“I was thinking, perhaps we should charm the student’s robes so it’s easy to see which team they are on.”

“Fine by me,” he shrugged, taking a pepper imp from the jar. “How much longer you got in here?” He yawned, and his eyes looked tired. She wondered if they were just sleeping tonight, or _more than sleeping_. They had taken to spending the night with each other every night, regardless of sex. Although it tended to be a quite excellent way to start her days if he woke up with morning wood and they had time. Which was pretty much every day to be honest.

“I’m almost done. Let’s stay at yours tonight,” she said shuffling her papers into a semblance of order as his rolled up shirtsleeves distracted her even more. “I want to wear my green skirt tomorrow, and I left it at the cottage.”

******************************************************************************

“You cheated,” pouted Neville.

“Name one rule we broke,” she demanded.

“You had a complete snow fortress made of magic!” he complained. “ _And_ don’t think I didn’t notice the green robed flying attack squad.”

“What, is your poor ego bruised at how badly you were beaten?”

“More than my ego. Those snowballs really packed a punch from the air. That keeper has an arm on him. Feel this knot on the back of my head!” He leaned over her shoulder, presenting the top of his head with a pout.

“I felt like I had to do something to even the odds considering the Gryffindor students outnumber the slytherin students two to one.”

“We didn’t stand a chance.”

“No, not really, luv,” she laughed gaily, pulling the pins from her hair as she readied for bed. Her black nightgown slipped off a shoulder and she shot him a provocative look in the mirror. He grinned and pretended not to notice she’d called him luv.

“Dirty underhanded tactics,” he whined leaning back down and pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “My entire house is humiliated. McGonagall told me she was embarrassed for us.”

“I think the children had fun though,” put in Pansy, running a brush through her curls. “Once the older students went off to study and they played again after I made the Gryffindor younger years their own fort across the lake.”

“Yeah, and it was nice of you to warm me that you’d already invited Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw to join.”

“Honestly, what do the first through fourth years have to do? It’s not like when we were in school when there was some huge drama involving Potter every year.”

“True, true. And it was fun. I’m pretty sure all the kids had a nice time.”

“I told the older years they could have their own capture the flag tomorrow and winning team’s prefects get a week off the prefect rota.”

“You didn’t,” he moaned.

“McGonagall approved it. You’re supervising it with Trelawney.”

“You’re evil,” he breathed as she flounced to bed with a grin.

“I’m so sorry, but I have an appointment or I would be there,” she said with feigned regret.

“Liar,” he accused, tickling her, pulling her into him for a long heated kiss.

*************************************************************************

Pansy flooed back through the Hospital Wing floo and waved absently to Poppy. She was in a bit of a fog. She bumped into a jubilant fifth year prefect who informed her that the slytherin ravenclaw team had beaten the hufflepuffs and gryffindors and she was off prefect rounds the entire week of valentines.

“We’re going to have a party with the Ravenclaw upper years in the room of Requirement!”

“That’s nice. Make sure you ask the house elves to supply the snacks,” she muttered. Heading toward the Headmistress’s office, she dreaded the upcoming conversation.

“Pansy?” Minerva was surprised to see her. “This is a surprise.”

“I… I’ve got news,” she said plainly.

“Ahh… I hope it doesn’t have to do anything with Professor Zalinsky at Durmstrang. He’s bluntly told me he wants you back at any cost. Your replacement isn’t up to par.”

“No… no… not quite.”

“I’d hate to have to replace you. Just look what you managed yesterday. I haven’t seen such a happy student body in years,” McGonagall said blandly. “You have a way of bringing joy and excitement to the students. And let me just say, I’m expecting quite the year for Charms scores on the NEWT and OWL level.”

“Thank you… that means… a lot.”

“So, it’s something else bothering you?” asked McGonagall giving her a knowing look. “Surely things with you and Neville haven’t gone downhill that quickly?”

“Oh Merlin’s Beard, you know about that?” gasped Pansy, feeling herself flush bright red.

“ _Everyone_ knows about that,” drawled the portrait of her previous Head of House and headmaster from the wall. She blushed as the rest of the prior headmasters tittered in agreement.

“Please don’t tell my mother,” begged Pansy to whatever gods were listening.

“Come now, Severus. Only you, me, the rest of the portraits and staff seem to have caught on,” corrected McGonagall.

“Well, this is… Merlin, this is awkward,” Pansy confessed. “I’m probably going to need to take a leave around the end of the year. It’s not ideal. I thought I had planned this better.”

“I’m afraid that might be rather difficult,” McGonagall didn’t look thrilled. “It was near impossible to find you, and we didn’t have any other fabulous options.”

“Couldn’t you convince Granger to come back and run exam reviews or something? That sounds like something she’d love to do for four weeks. It will probably just be a couple weeks in May until the end of the term.”

“That isn’t actually a bad idea considering the Wizegamot will be out of session by then,” pondered McGonagall. “What do you need this time off for, anyways? I can just go around approving leave.”

“I…” Pansy found herself grasping for words. McGonagall’s pursed lips were rather intimidating. “The requirements of my Selwyn inheritance require that I provide the line an heir or heiress by my thirtieth birthday. I made arrangements with the fertility clinic at St. Mungo’s and selected a donor this past September,” she finally managed. “I wasn’t sure if it would take, my mother had such difficulties having me.”

“And so you’re needed a maternity leave,” concluded McGonagall, looking a little surprised for once.

“Precisely. And… today I found out I’m having twins, so while I thought I had planned things perfectly to line up with the end of the year, my healer is worried about me needing bedrest and potentially delivering much earlier. I’m not putting on weight the way she wanted, and now that we know it’s twins, she much more concerned. She’s decided I’m _high risk_ , and wants me…” Pansy trailed off, looking up at McGonagall realizing she’d said more than she’d wanted.

“You’ve had more on your plate this year than I realized,” commented McGonagall thoughtfully. “I’m sure I can figure out something for the end of term. The students will mostly be taking final exams, which I’m sure you will have prepared ahead of time.”

“Of course,” agreed Pansy. “Thank you so much for understanding. I will work as long as I am able of course.”

“Can I just say, I’m a little disappointed it isn’t Professor Longbottom’s?” McGonagall threw out there, shocking Pansy.

“Oh Merlin, then we’d have to get married,” shuddered Pansy. “I’m not really the marrying type.”

“Why ever not? If I recall you were quite enthralled with the idea of marrying Draco Malfoy when you were children. If the wedding dress sketches among your notes were any indication.”

“You realize I’m next in line to hold the Selwyn seat on the Wizegamot?” Pansy said. “When my great uncle passes, it will pass to me. If I marry it goes to my husband.”

“Unless your husband already has a seat,” corrected Minerva. “And if I recall, Frank is still sitting in their family seat, but of course, I’m not suggesting you have any interest in marrying into the Longbottom family.”

“True, and as my mother would say, a husband may be the head of the family, but the wife is the neck, and she tells the head what to look at.”

“Violet Greengrass was always a smart one,” laughed McGonagall.

“I’ll keep you updated on the situation,” Pansy said heading out the door, feeling mildly better after speaking with McGonagall. Unfortunately, she almost immediately ran into the Travers twins, a pair of Gryffindor fourth years who were nothing but trouble. Reminded her of the Weasley boys actually.

“Gentlemen,” she arched a brow and crossed her arms.

“Professor,” they chimed.

“Lovely afternoon,” said the one.

“You look nice today,” the other added.

“Finished with your charms essays for Monday?” she asked, looking closely for clues as to what they were doing so far from the Gryffindor tower without any books or coats.

“Oh yes, we’re just heading back from the library,” said the one earning a glare from the other who she now suspected was Declan, the smarter of the two.

“Hmm… we can talk about that in detention on Wednesday night, then,” she decided before spinning on her heel to the sound of their protests.

“A better lie would have been that you were headed to the kitchens for a study snack,” she called, keeping her eyes peeled for any type of pranks. Considering, this is the way they had been headed, hopefully any trouble was in the opposite direction.

Heading to the kitchens herself, she sank into a chair in the corner and made every effort to drown her worries in ice cream.

“Should have known I could find you with a bowl of ice cream,” announced Neville, arriving not horribly long after. Immediately swarmed by elves wanting to help him, he joined her after requesting a bowl of apple crisp. “You know if you eat enough of it, you’ll actually turn into a bowl of ice cream.”

“Which might be an improvement,” she muttered, shoveling another spoonful in her mouth mournfully.

“Come on, what’s wrong?” he asked. “I heard you were dishing out detentions for ‘no apparent reason.’” He used air quotes to support his statement.

“We both know they were up to something.”

“Fifteen minutes later, Filch found Mrs. Norris locked in an arithmancy classroom with her fur flashing neon colors. We’re pretty sure it was them, so you are likely correct. But what’s wrong?”

“I… I’m just overwhelmed,” she confessed.

“Hey, don’t forget I’m doing all your rounds and grading this month,” he pouted.

“We both know you skiv off rounds and spend the entire time hiding in my office anyways.”

“ _We_ know that but _McGonagall_ doesn’t,” Nev whispered conspiratorially.

“Don’t be so sure. I feel like she knows more than we realize.”

“You’re paranoid,” he laughed, spooning another spoonful of apple crisp into his mouth.

“What are we?” she blurted out.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…. This thing… whatever it is. We’ve never defined what we are to each other. We just kind of…”

“What do you want this to be?”

“I need you to keep being my friend. No matter what.”

“Friends with benefits is probably all the commitment I can handle right now to be honest,” he confided.

“Don’t tell Draco, but you’re my best friend now,” she whispered conspiratorially.

“I think he and Torie are pregnant again,” remembered Neville, thinking of the floo call he’d had with his friend recently.

“Really, a Malfoy spare, that’s nearly unheard of,” Pansy mused before shaking her head irritated they were now off topic.

“Almost as unheard of as a Gryffindor head of house having a slytherin head of house for a best friend.”

“Dear Merlin, pretty sure last time that happened they were the founders.”

“I’m not sure, I think Dumbledore and Slughorn got along pretty well.”

“Just remember, _I’m_ the Dumbledore in this relationship,” sighed Pansy. “Smarter, better looking, and more likely to find another use for Dragon’s Blood.”

“That also means, I’m the one less likely to be thrown off the astronomy tower by an irate student. I can live with that.” He declared with a shrug, making her laugh out loud.

Fifteen minutes later he had her pressed against the wall of an alcove behind a tapestry, his lips tracing along her neck as he hiked her skirts up and wrapped her long legs around him as he slid into her with a groan. “Fuck… do you wonder if ol’ Sluggy and Dumbledrop every had a relationship like this?” he joked in her ear, causing her to burst into giggles that made her bounce in a way that made him groan.

“Ville, you can’t say things like that! You’re ruining the mood!” she protested.

“Which one of them do you think would be on the bottom?” he speculated further. “I mean, clearly Dumbles would have had the longer trouser wand, and we both know he’s better _with_ a wand…”

“Nev!” she laughed.

“You’re right, mine is definitely the biggest.”

******************************************************************************

“So, when are you going to tell Neville?”

“Tell Neville what?” she asked puzzled.

“That he’s going to be daddy,” huffed Luna.

“I’m not… he’s not going to be a daddy,” corrected Pansy, deciding that coming clean to her coworker was better than keeping it a secret for what little time it remained a secret.

“Well, seems to me, he is,” argued Luna.

“Can you believe that one of the conditions of my inheritance is to produce an heir or heiress by the time I’m thirty?”

“What? How archaic!” exclaimed a shocked Luna. “Oh Merlin, please don’t tell me you’ve tricked Nev into knocking you up. If this whole affair was using him for a baby, he’ll never forgive you.”

“Okay, if you think I’m capable of that, you clearly think really highly of me,” Pansy spat out offended at the charge. “Nev and I have been square from the beginning that this was just about sex.”

“Okay. And now you’re having his baby and it’s a huge convenient coincidence?” shot back Luna, the ravenclaw showing some real anger on behalf of her longtime friend.

“No. Stop jumping to conclusions. I was pregnant _before_ Neville and I started shagging. In fact, the pregnancy hormones are probably to blame for the shagging. Why else would I be so insane as to allow a _Longbottom_ into my bed.”

“Okay, you’re going to need to back up a few steps. Whose baby is this?”

“Donor number 730 from the St. Mungo’s fertility clinic,” confessed Pansy. “He seemed just as good as any of the rest, actually, he was pretty superior, and I chose him as the father of my children.”

“So you’re caving to the sexist requirements of your inheritance and having a stranger’s baby and becoming a single mother?” Luna was baffled.

“I’m choosing my destiny,” Pansy corrected.

“This is wrong on so many levels,” muttered the blonde witch. “You think this plan will work?”

“My lawyer assured me it would, and my parents agreed it was better than the alternative.”

“Which was what?”

“Allowing the money and the wizegamot seat fall into the hands of the Carrow family,” spat Pansy.

“Your parents were on board with this plan?”

“I thought you were open minded?”

“I am, this just doesn’t seem like you!” exclaimed Luna. “You were willing to undergo the shame of being a single mother?”

“I _am_ going to be a single mother. And I’m going to be completely shameless about it.”

“Morgana’s tit’s Pans, you’ve got balls.” Luna gave her friend a questioning look before continuing, “So um…. When are you going to tell Nev?” The conversation had officially come full circle.

“Don’t remind me. I keep putting it off.”

“Just like you’re putting off any conversation about what you guys are to each other?” Luna quirked an eyebrow.

“Actually, you’ll be happy to know we talked about that. We’re officially friends with benefits.”

“Ugggh!” groaned a frustrated Luna. “You to have got to be the most commitment phobic pair of lovestruck idiots I ever met.”

“I’m committed to becoming a mother,” protested Pansy. “That’s all I can commit to right now. And it’s a rather larger commitment than I expected… considering it’s twins.”

“You’re kidding?!” exclaimed Luna.

“Unfortunately not,” sighed Pansy. “I had to request an early maternity leave from McGonagall. It was so humiliating. _And_ she knew about me and Nev.”

“You have to tell him,” warned Luna.

“Yes yes… it’s just. We’re friends, and we agreed that’s the most important part of our relationship. But… I’m not ready to go back to being just friends.”

“The sex is that good?” Luna raised her brows.

“There’s something to be said regarding the _Long_ bottom family name,” Pansy replied conspiratorially. “And let’s just say that Longbottom gets an O on every test he uses his trouser wand for.”

“You! Are! Terrible!” Luna shrieked before bursting into laughter.

“I’m also _really_ horny from the bloody pregnancy hormones. Nev’s my only unmarried friend with the right bits who can help me out.”

“So we have come full circle. It seems you are using poor Neville for your own nefarious purposes,” Luna accused, this time with laughter in her eyes.

“Relax,” deadpanned Pansy. “I’m pretty sure he’s not complaining about it.”

***********************************************************************8

Pansy glanced at Neville’s reflection in her dressing room mirror. He was sprawled on the bed, his hair mussed and a muggle pen he used for grading stuck behind his ear. His chest was bare, and his long legs were clad in those ridiculous Harpies pajama pants he insisted on wearing despite the fact he was a lifelong supporter of Appleby. Glancing back at her reflection, she ran her brush through her hair again.

“Dora, you going to brush your hair all night, or do you actually plan on coming to bed?” he finally asked, setting aside the seventh year essays he was trying to get through.

“What if I said I wasn’t in the mood tonight? Just tired?” she asked, turning on her stool and observing him as he set his papers on the bedside table with his wand.

“Considering the looks you were shooting me in the mirror earlier, I rather thought you were a sure thing tonight, but you do realize we haven’t spent a night apart since term started,” he said after a long moment of contemplation.

“Well, I’m not. I’m tired tonight.”

“Alright,” he said with a shrug. “You don’t mind if I stay anyways?”

“Why?” she demanded.

“Because I’m bloody tired too, and I don’t know what we’re arguing about anyways?” He rubbed his eyes. “Fuck Dora, just come to bed.”

“But why don’t you go back to your cottage?!” she forced out.

“I mean. I….” he broke off. “I prefer to stay here with you. But… would you like me to go?” He stood suddenly.

“No, stay… I’m just…” she huffed out a sigh and threw her head back before taking a deep breath. “Please, feel free to stay.”

“Okay,” Neville gave her a searching look as he settled back into the bed. “You’re being weirder than normal.” She glared at him. “What’s really wrong, Dora? I thought we decided that we were friends with benefits who also preferred sleeping in the same bed all night long every night instead of sneaking off. Do you need a night to yourself?”

“No, I meant it when I asked you to stay. I don’t want you to leave,” she shook her head. “I just… Merlin, this is harder than I thought.”

“I thought you were too tired for hard things tonight,” he joked.

“Nev!” she complained. “I’m… Godric… do you think I’m getting fat?” she asked suddenly, pulling the dressing gown tight across her abdomen and looking at him.

“You’re perfect,” he answered sincerely. “Your tits have been particularly lush lately, and I’m definitely not complaining. As for anything else, you’ve always been on the skinny side. I think your weight is the last thing you need to worry about.”

“Did I tell you the conditions of my Selwyn inheritance require I have a child by my thirtieth birthday?” she blurted.

“The Longbottom conditional age is thirty five. Thirty seems rather young,” he said after a moment. “Oh fuck… you aren’t asking…”

“ _NO!_ ” she interrupted. “I’m…”

“I can’t marry again,” he said suddenly red in the face. “I… it’s…”

“NEV!” she exclaimed. “I’m not asking anything of you!” He looked at her, his feet half out from under the covers as she paced at the foot of the bed. “I… I went to that new fertility clinic at St. Mungo’s. The one Daphne and Theo used to have their baby when things weren’t working out the normal way. Back in September I picked out a donor, and here we are.” She cupped her abdomen. “It worked, and I thought… you might want to know.”

Neville was quiet for a long moment. “This probably explains why you’re so much easier than I though you would be.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I’m not complaining,” he protested. “Just… are you sure about this?”

“Sure about what?”

“Having a kid?”

“Since it’s twins, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter. I’m having two of them.”

“Hell Dora, what did you do, pick a Weasley?”

“Ha.Ha,” she deadpanned. “As if I’d select a redheaded option. I wanted there to be a chance the poor kid could be a slytherin.”

“Kids,” breathed Neville.

“Yes, kids, twins, I was a bit surprised myself. Still getting used to it actually,” she confessed. “Mum was a twin, so I don’t know why I didn’t think it could happen to me. Runs in the Greengrass family.”

“I gave up having kids of my own years ago,” Neville blurted.

“How were you going to get around the Longbottom inheritance?” she demanded.

“I have a plan for that,” he answered distractedly. “But… is this why you want me to leave?”

“What?!” she demanded.

“Like, go back to the cottage?”

“No, of course not. I just… I’ve been trying to tell you for ages.”

“So you aren’t mad at me? You aren’t throwing me out.”

“No,” she grinned. “I’m not mad at you. I just… I didn’t want…”

“This is what you want? Children?” he clarified.

“Yes. I decided this for myself. I wanted children, I wanted the inheritance. I didn’t want the pureblooded husband and all _that_. I made it happen on my terms.” She made a hopeless gesture and he nodded in understanding.

“Then I’m happy for you. I don’t see how this changes us.”

“I mean… I’m going to get fat, and eventually you aren’t going to want to stay here because there are going to be two squalling brats…”

“Still don’t see how that changes _us_. Why wouldn’t I want to help out my friend with her kids when she needs it. I help Luna, Harry, Ginny, Draco, Astoria, Ron, and Hermione with their kids all the time.”

“You didn’t mention Rolf,” she corrected.

“He’s not my friend,” deadpanned Neville.

“He means well,” she quietly agreed, finally settling and getting into bed. “But… back to the topic at hand. You aren’t also sleeping with Luna, Harry, Ginny, Draco, Astoria, Ron or Hermione. That I know of anyways.”

“It’s everything I can do to keep you satisfied. Do you really think I have it in me to take up with another witch?”

“It doesn’t really seem like something Harry or Ron would put up with,” she said with a wink, causing him to let out a sharp laugh. “Or something you would do.” She said sincerely.

“You really think Draco would put up with something like that?” Nev laughed with a shake of his head.

“That’s assuming Astoria would have _you_.” She laughed as Nev clutched at his heart and fell back against the pillows.

“So are we good?” he asked, turning toward her.

“I’m not the one I’m worried about,” she breathed quietly as he wandlessly doused the lights.

“Pretty sure you worried about nothing. You know the thought of commitment makes me break out in hives. Now that I know you aren’t going to try and wring the Longbottom Countess’s Coronet and an heir and a spare from me, well… that just makes this entire thing more attractive.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest.

“The Selwyn family tiara has amethysts that match my eyes perfectly,” she retorted. “What would I want with _yours_.”

“Too right, although the family jewelry is mostly emeralds and silver. Not exactly my taste, but they would be your house colors.”

“Was that a proposal, Longbottom, because I can feel your hives breaking out from here,” she turned in his arms and rested her forehead against his.

“Hell no, I was just observing…”

“Thought so. As if I would wear Abbot’s secondhand jewels. You’d have to have them completely reset. You could use that sapphire necklace your gran always complains are too heavy and gaudy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he joked sarcastically.

“You know the only family jewels I’m interested are the ones that are rather attached to you,” she said slyly reaching between them.

“I _knew_ you were a sure thing tonight,” growled Neville as she cupped him through the thin fabric of his pajamas and made him groan.

*********************************************************************************

Neville ran a hand through his hair and paced across his friends office. “I already called the clinic and they said my sample was requested, but they couldn’t give me more info.”

“So sometime in the next 3 to 9 months you’ll have your heir. That was the purpose.” Draco reminded him.

“But I wasn’t supposed to actually know the mum, let alone ever see the child. They were just going to get their inheritance papers when they come of age. The wizegamot sends them automatically.”

“So what if Pansy is having your sproglet.”

“Sproglets! Sproglet-s” emphasized Neville. “She doesn’t know I signed up as a one time donor, but how do you think it’s going to go if I tell her.”

“I mean, it would be a pretty small world if she is having your sproglet-s and you’re currently banging her.”

“The wizarding world _is_ a small world!” exclaimed Neville waving his hands wildly.

“Look, this would be good. She’ll be a good mum, and you would be able to see and know your kid. Win win.”

“I’m pretty sure from my perspective it would be lose lose,” moaned Neville.

“Explain,” demanded Draco.

“So, first of all, she’s going to be furious and kick me out of her bed,” Neville ticked off on one finger. “Then, our family is going to find out, because with my luck at least one of these poor kids will turn out exactly like me. Then they’re going to pester us to wed which would be awful because at this point she will hate me for sullying her perfect children.”

“Okay, back up. I would think Pans would be happy to know you’re the dad. You’re a stand up guy, generally thought of as good looking, and you’re brilliant.”

“Please convince her of that when she finds out,” begged Neville. “Maybe you could hide her wand as well.”

************************************************************************

From Neville’s perspective it was like Pansy went from not-pregnant to pregnant all at once. Her stomach went from slightly pudgy, probably just constipated, to expectant mother, it might be triplets, practically overnight. Pansy was of similar opinion, wondering how she went to bed one night and the next morning her robes wouldn’t button. Luckily she was handy with an extension charm.

“Ohhh, feel!” she exclaimed, reaching across the bed to pull his hand to her belly. “It’s like they are playing quidditch in there tonight.”

“If so, they didn’t get their quidditch skills from you,” joked Neville, smiling at the feeling of the movement beneath his hand.

“Definitely not,” she laughed. “I am too tired to do any more grading tonight.” She waved her wand to banish the stack of essays she had been grading in bed to her office.

“Is that code for ‘I’m hungry, bring me ice cream’ or ‘I’m horny, let’s have sex’?” asked Neville setting aside his stack of essays on the nightstand.

“Oh, now that you mention it…” she gave him a torn look.

“Sounds like such a _hard_ decision,” he winked at her.

“Will you hate me if I want apple crisp and ice cream?”

“Does sex come _after_ dessert?”

“Ohhh, is that on the table?”

“On the table, getting adventurous now,” he joked with a half grin.

“Ugggh, at this point, I would probably break the table… Help me up and hand me my dressing gown. This castle is still freezing, even if it’s almost March.”

“No wonder you wanted a bedmate for the winter,” he pouted, pulling on his own dark brown dressing gown after helping her into her purple one. “Come on, we’ll get that dessert.”

They ventured through the quiet castle to find the kitchens bustling at all hours as the night shift elves prepared breakfast for the following day. They were of course pleased to offer the professors whatever they liked.

Moaning with happiness, Pansy smiled up from her dessert to look at Neville who was happily eating his as well. Leaning over she bussed a kiss on his cheek.

“What was that for?” he laughed, leaning over and placing a sweet kiss on her mouth.

“I’m just happy,” she sighed, eating another spoonful of vanilla ice cream.

“Mmmm, me too,” he agreed.

Later, tucked in bed, he wrapped his arms around her in post orgasmic bliss. “Goodnight, luv,” he whispered against her curls.

“Love you too,” she murmured sleepily, not noticing how he stiffened and jolted awake with her words. Staring into the dark he listened to her heavy breathing indicate she was fast asleep as he stared into the darkness and wondered what it meant that he hadn’t slept alone all term and apparently his strictly friends with benefits arrangement with the unwitting mother of his child had gotten all the more complicated considering he was madly in love with her, again. Violating his personal life plan never to fall in love again, especially with a Parkinson.


	6. Sometimes it's better not to open it, better not to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay. I have rewritten this several times. I think I finally like the direction I put this. Next update should be sooner. Let me know what you think!

Pansy casually added more sausages to her plate and tried to ignore the incredulous look Luna was giving her. Yes, she knew she was getting as big as a house, but she really couldn’t bring herself to stop eating. Especially with Nev acting the way he had for the last couple weeks.

“Do you think Nev’s been acting funny?” she burst out, turning to the blonde professor who was definitely judging the amount of breakfast meat she had consumed this morning. Pansy bit into another piece of crispy bacon on principle. 

“I mean… I’m not the one practically living in his pocket. Why, what has he done now?”

“It’s just… he’s been distant,” Pansy tried to put it into words. Yes, they still slept together every night, and yes, the sex was still amazing, and of course the nightly trips to the kitchens were still an essential function of their relationship, but something had been off. 

“He’s probably just stressed about his curriculum,” suggested Luna. “Not all of us have enough teaching experience to slack off four nights a week.”

“I’ll have you know, I don’t slack off four nights a week,” pouted Pansy. “It’s three at most.”

Luna snorted into her pumpkin juice. “He’s probably just jealous you get to spend so much time not grading papers and worrying about writing exams.”

“A little jealousy makes us all a little green on the inside,” recited Pansy, one of her favorite Narcissa Malfoyisms. “He’s such a gryffindork, it’s good for him.”

“I think this time of year is hard for him as well,” Luna said, her eyes unfocused on a far end of the hall. “I the anniversary of his split with Hannah is about this time. I know it was rough for him last year. Rough enough for him to finally leave the Ministry.”

“He hasn’t said anything, but maybe that’s it,” Pansy agreed, trying to shrug off the feeling of insecurity that accompanied the idea that her current lover was in a slump over his ex wife. 

“Maybe,” agreed Luna. “Or maybe he’s just uncomfortable with the way you’ve been absolutely devouring sausages at breakfast every morning.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” asked Pansy with false innocence as she speared a sausage with her fork and lifted it to her mouth, sucking the syrup off the end suggestively.

“ _Pansy!_ ” squealed Luna. “There are _first years_ present.”

“What… as if they’re watching me. They’re all too busy watching the drama that is the Ravenclaw chasers love triangle. _How will it turn out?_ ”

“I caught Hendricks and Grantham making out on the fifth floor two nights ago… in case you were wanting a spoiler,” announced Rolf arriving at breakfast, his hair disheveled curls taking a life of their own. 

“ _Rolf!_ ” Pansy frowned at him before turning back to Luna. “I was really hoping my new seating arrangement in Charms was going to bring things to the boiling point.”

“Always trying to manipulate everyone around you,” Neville arrived with a laugh, settling in next to her and waving his wand to fill his plate with a tall stack of pancakes. 

“Of course. What kind of slytherin would I be if I didn’t?” she gave him a look of reproach before stealing a hotcake off his plate. She certainly had room for one more.

“The Ravenclaw kind, that’s what,” suggested Neville causing both women at the table to gasp in horror.

“ _How dare you suggest!”_ they chimed together before giving each other looks of satisfied agreement. Neville just shrugged and dug into his breakfast with an amused twitch of his mouth. 

“You’re right, he _is_ being weird,” whispered Luna loudly. Neville, clearly having heard raised his eyebrows but decided poking fun at the two witches wasn’t a great idea this morning when he watched Pansy charm the bacon off his plate with a glare. 

* * *

“So,” Pansy said, interrupting the silence. “Easter holidays are coming up.”

“Mhm…” hummed Neville. 

“What are we going to do?” she pressed.

“Did you want to spend the break together?” he asked, looking up from the seventh year essay he was grading. He didn’t have the fortitude to resist the low cut sweater she was wearing tonight.

“If you’re busy, you only had to say so!” she snapped, finally done with the aloof emotionless Neville she’d been dealing with for the past three weeks. 

“I’m just about done with this essay.”

“For break! Look, I can take a hint, I’ll just figure something on my own,” she whipped out her wand and suddenly the cluttered collection of papers and books in the small office they had taken to sharing recently magically sorted itself into two distinct piles. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

“Honestly, Dora,” he gave a frustrated huff, running his hands through his hair as she struggled to shove everything in the bag she used to tote her things around the castle. A jab of her wand and the contents shrunk themselves into a more reasonable size. 

“Contrary to popular belief, I am able to determine when I’ve become a nuisance,” she muttered slipping the strap over her shoulder and moving to the floo of his cozy office in the cottage more slowly than she would have liked due to the ungainliness of her stomach.

“Seriously Dora, stop being so difficult!” Neville jumped to his feet blocking her way.

“I’m not being difficult! And don’t try and tell me I’m a clingy mess like you did in sixth year when Draco dumped me!”

“If the shoe fits!” he growled. Her jaw fell open in silent rage and he silently wished he had a time turner handy.

“Well, if that’s the problem…” she answered with a deadly calm tone. “I’ll give you a little space. See you at breakfast, Professor Longbottom.” 

She stepped around him neatly and floo’d away. Neville sagged into his leather chair and swiveled in a full circle before letting his head tip back and rest against the back of the chair with a deep sigh. The whole trying to emotionally distance himself wasn’t really turning out like he had hoped. He massaged the bridge of his nose and tried to ignore the lingering scent of ginger, citrus, and gardenias she left in her wake. 

Neville rubbed his eyes tiredly the next morning, having been completely unable to sleep the night before after he realized Pansy had warded her floo closed. He’d been too afraid to try knocking on her door and had instead spent the entire night trying to distract himself with lesson planning. He had arrived at breakfast earlier than usual and was currently on his third cup of tea, watching the east door for her arrival.

“Well you look terrible,” said Luna sitting down beside him giving him a startle. 

“Pot, kettle,” he said looking over to find her looking exhausted with dark circles under her eyes and her hair a messy nest on top of her head. He used his wand to poke at a rather large wet white stain on her shoulder. 

“I’m a mother of twins. They might be wizards, or they might be changelings sent by the fae to torture me. Further observation is required,” she sighed. “What’s your excuse.”

“Just a late night lesson planning for the end of the year,” he lied taking a sip of his tea. 

“Come on, what did Parkinson put you in the doghouse for?” teased Luna with knowing eyes.

“It’s not that obvious is it?” he groaned running a hand through his hair.

“She was down in the kitchens crying at two am, so I’m going to go with yes,” answered Luna with a reprimanding look. “I can barely handle my children crying at two in the morning, so I really need you to get your shit together so I don’t have to deal with all three of them at once.”

“I’m the worst,” he admitted.

“Look, I’m not going to pretend I understand the snarky-friends-with-benefits-madly-in-love thing you two have going on, but it’s fucking with my sleep schedule and you need to straighten it out,” she said poking a sharp fingernail into his chest. 

“I appreciate you being so forthright with your unsolicited opinions,” he grumbled. 

“Straighten. It. Out.” the sleep deprived Ravenclaw head of house snapped with uncharacteristic grumpiness. 

“I’ll take it under advisement,” he said, focusing on the arrival of the post with relief. 

“You should listen to ravenclaws, Vile. They’re much smarter than you,” Pansy arrived, clearly full of the aforementioned snark this morning. 

“The term, _birdbrain_ comes to mind,” he volleyed cracking the seal of the letter marked by Harry’s distinctive scrawl. Luna smirked as the owl at his elbow snapped at his exposed wrist. “Fuck! Here’s a sausage you bloody vampire!” The owl hooted in offense and flew off. 

Pansy hid her laugh in her pumpkin juice. Neville ignored the gossiping witches as they dug into their breakfast and he scanned the letter. Looking up at Pansy’s delicate profile as she smiled at something Luna said before taking a sip of steaming lemon tea, his stomach clenched. It was either a sign of lovesickness or too much tea. 

* * *

By the end of the day Neville was exhausted. He’d missed dinner due to a rather unfortunate incident with the fourth years, a pair of contaminated gloves, and poison snagglevine sap. He’d spent the better part of his evening scorgifying greenhouse three after escorting half the hufflepuffs to the hospital wing. Since he was on his way to the kitchens, he didn’t think it _quite_ out of his way to stop by Pansy’s office to see if she needed an after dinner treat. His attempt at a peace offering was spoiled when her office was bare. A quick stop at her apartments resulted in the same, so he made his way to the kitchens alone where he took a sandwich to go, hoping she was visiting Luna. 

“It would seem you’ve misplaced your mistress,” a tired looking Luna said apologetically. Neville could hear Rolf trying to tend a squalling baby in another room, and the crease between her eyebrows showed more stress than the Ravenclaw Head of House usually displayed. 

“So it would seem,” he agreed. It wasn’t as if he had searched the entire castle, but those _were_ her usual haunts. He’d poked his head into the classrooms along the charms corridor on the off chance she was setting up something for the next day. Empty. He’d made a quick inquiry with Madame Pince to see if she had happened to wander into the library. “Mind if I use your inter-castle-floo to go to the hospital wing?”

“Be my guest, are you worried she’s there?” asked Luna shifting the twin in arms.

“No, no…” he lied. “I wanted to check on some Hufflepuff fourth years I dropped off this afternoon. Half of my class got covered in invisible sap.”

“Why do I have a feeling this is likely Mr. Preston’s fault?” asked Luna with a sigh, rubbing her brow.

“I didn’t know you were so good at Divination, Lune,” he joked taking a pinch of floo powder.

“For the record, I predict that everything with Pansy will blow over,” she said with a tired smile as he stepped in and whooshed through to the hospital wing.

The fourth years were fine, but Pansy hadn’t been to the hospital wing since her last regularly scheduled mediwitch appointment. Apparently her classroom had significantly less accidents. A last ditch effort found him in the slytherin common room under the guise of checking to ensure none of the fourth year slytherins had any rash symptoms, which they didn’t. 

Exhausted, he took advantage of the common room fireplace to floo to his cottage, wondering where he had missed her, and when she had likely crossed paths with him, but too tired to try her office again. Arriving back at the Herbologist’s cottage, he walked past the open door to his office that connected to greenhouse four before backtracking two steps. 

The comfortable clutter was back, charms essays covering _her_ side of the desk. “What are you doing here?” he asked bewildered.

She looked up, startled and smiled, her violet eyes lighting up and her white teeth flashing before she seemed to remember they were fighting. Probably because he was scowling at her. 

“I wanted to talk to you, and I figured you’d be back here eventually,” she said shuffling her papers awkwardly and standing.

“I’ve been hickety pickety all over the castle looking for _you!_ ” he burst out in frustration storming around the desk to face her with his arms crossed. “I almost got scolded by Pomphrey in the hospital wing. By the way, she still likes you better.”

“Everyone likes me better,” she quipped automatically. He watched her face fall and flush with embarrassment. How easily they fell into their normal back and forth.

“I missed you last night,” he confessed.

“Merlin, me too. I slept terribly,” she complained. “I can’t imagine how I’ve attuned myself to your horrible snoring, but I found I really can’t sleep without it.”

“Admit it, you were just cold,” he teased as she threw herself into his arms. 

“I admit to nothing,” she protested into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m just such an emotional mess. And… I just felt as if… you’re tired of me.”

“I’ve been following you around since we were kids. It’s such a habit, I’d hardly know what to do with myself if I stopped.”

“I’m exhausted,” she confessed rubbing her belly as one of the twins gave her a kick.

“Let’s go to bed. We can talk it out in the morning,” he suggested, directing her toward the bedroom with his hand gently rubbing the small of her back. 

“Can we have make up sex in the morning as well?” she teased before letting out a yawn and sinking to the bed with a look of utter exhaustion.

By the time he finished his shower and slipped into his harpies sweatpants, she was fast asleep, her dark hair stark against his white pillow case. Slipping in beside her, he took a deep breath of gardenias and pressed his lips to her temple before wrapping an arm around her and snuggling close, exhausted but content.

* * *

Neville sat in bed sipping tea and reading the paper as Pansy fiddled with her curls at the desk she had charmed into a rather fanciful dressing table ages ago, complete with carved flowers framing the mirror and ivy winding around the spindly legs. He loved Saturdays, especially when it wasn’t their weekend to monitor the children in the great hall during meals.

“I’m sorry for freaking out. I don’t even know why I did it,” Pansy apologized breaking the silence since he had woken to hear her showering and taken the liberty of ordering them breakfast and the paper. He watched her reflection pause with her hair and take a sip out of the delicate china teacup the house elves had delivered to her this morning.

“I’ve been distant and distracted, you’re right. I’ve been trying to finish up the lesson plans for the school year and plan my research trip for this summer,” he confessed, folding the paper and setting it aside. There wasn’t much of interest this morning.

“That’s right,” she said quietly looking away. “Siberia, right?”

“Yes,” he sighed. “I just… I’m not really sure if I’m going to be able to leave you and the twins. You’ll have just had the babies, and you’re going to need a lot of help, and maybe it would be better if I postponed it until next year.”

“No! You can’t do that!” she protested, turning to face him directly. “What… What if we came with you?”

“Dora, it’s going to be very remote, and while I don’t expect it to be dangerous, it’s really not someplace you bring brand new babies.”

“Why not? What else am I going to be doing?”

“For one, I just really can’t imagine you camping for five weeks,” he put in gently.

“Camping!” she exclaimed. “Wouldn’t you just rent a cottage or something?”

“No, I’m planning to use the world cup tent,” he confessed, hiding his amusement at her horrified expression with a sip of tea. 

“Well,” she said slowly and choosing her words carefully. “That’s not _exactly_ primitive.”

“You threw an absolute fit when we were ten and insisted that it ‘wasn’t fit for house elves, let alone witches and wizards.’”

“Suppose…. I could spruce it up a little. We could bring a house elf along. Besides, I’m sure if you aired it out for a few weeks it wouldn’t smell quite so strongly of old socks.”

“You wouldn’t last two nights,” he laughed. “You would be begging for more fitting accommodations.”

“I would not!” she protested before taking a large bite of a chocolate croissant.

“Alright, let’s have a test run then. Harry’s invited us to the league cup finals over easter break. Gin’s assistant coaching until she’s recovered from her maternity leave, and he has a box for their family and friends. He told me if I wanted to spend the holiday watching too much quidditch and drinking with him and Ron, I was invited. I got the owl yesterday.”

“I’m just _sure_ Potter and company would _love_ to spend the week with me,” she huffed sarcastically tearing off another bite of croissant. “I’ll have to see what Draco’s doing because there’s no way I’m letting mum hover over me in my _delicate state_ all week.”

“Alright, good luck sleeping though. Perhaps we should spend a few more nights apart just go get used to it then. After all, the one night apart we’ve had since term started didn’t go great. And don’t even ask because there’s no way we could manage sneaking into each other’s rooms if we spend the holiday at Parkview and Longheath.”

“Seeing how long it takes Weasley to figure out we’re sleeping together might be amusing,” she admitted, inspecting her nails. “Not to mention his face when he finally does.”

“As good a reason as any. Plus, we would have the added benefit of me not having to lie to my gran for the first time since we skivved our dancing lessons and slipped off for ice cream instead,” he grinned at the memory. 

“Don’t forget you lied about knowing what happened to that 14th century Ming vase,” she smirked turning back to her reflection and taking her gardenia scented lotion and rubbing it on her arms.

“Hmmm… I guess that _was_ more recent. Although, I’m noticing a common aspect with these lies. _You_ always seem to be involved,” he observed causing her to bite her lip in amusement. “You’ve always been a bit of a bad girl, haven’t you,” he said, rising from the bed and setting his mug aside before stalking toward her. 

“Have you been a bad girl lately, Miss Parkinson?” he asked, lowering his voice and pressing the words against her ear. He watched her eyes darken in the mirror as she met his gaze. She bit her lip and lowered her eyes.

“I’m very sorry, Professor Longbottom. You know I never mean to be bad. Sometimes, I just can’t help it.” He raised his eyebrows at her in the mirror but the smirk she gave in return was an apparent open flooport. 

“So it would seem,” said running a rough hand over the silk of her dressing gown, slipping it over her shoulders to reveal the delicate purple slip she had slept in the night before. “I don’t believe this is quite in accordance with the uniform policy.” He ran his hands over the bare skin of her shoulders and watched her nipples pebble beneath the thin fabric. His mouth next to her ear, he slipped his fingers under the straps of the nightgown. “I’m really going to need you to take it off, Miss Parkinson.”

“Make me,” her reflection challenged him. He slipped the nightgown over her shoulders and it puddled around her waist as he gently slicked it down over her belly, baring her breasts completely, her rosy nipples matching those rosy bitten lips. He watched in the mirror as his darker, calloused hands cupped her breasts, teasing the nipples, making her arch her back and throw her head back against his shoulder, her recently neatened curls brushing her delicate collarbone. He pressed his lips to her neck, watching her violet eyes close and her mouth fall open as he gently suckled against a spot he knew she favored. 

Pulling her to her feet, he nudged the small cushioned stool from under her with a knee and let the nightgown slither to the floor in a silken puddle. “Surely _these_ are against the uniform policy as well,” he murmured, dipping his lips to her shoulder and trailing them to her elbow as he pushed the black lace knickers to the floor. Eyes level with her breasts, he leaned around her and gently sucked one into his mouth, twirling his tongue over her before trailing his fingers back up over her hips as his lips returned to her ear. “Fucking lovely,” he murmured against her ear, his fingers lightly trailing over her hip toward her inner thigh. His other hand rose to trail over her breasts, gliding over the column of her neck to turn her head and meet her lips in a languid kiss. He invaded her mouth with his tongue as he lifted her leg to rest her foot on the dressing table stool, sliding his hand along her inner thigh toward his goal, making her shiver. Spreading her open with his fingers where she was pink and wet, he redirected his attention to the mirror where she was open and on display in front of him. He watched a flush spread over her face and neck, where he kissed her to distract her. He watched his thumb circle her clit and grinned in satisfaction as she bucked her hips against him and threw her head back against his shoulder, her curls now thoroughly tousled. He mimicked the movement with his other hand against her breast, making her let out a soft moan of impatience. The reflection was like his own personal mirror of Erised, displaying his every indecent schoolboy fantasy. 

“I think a detention polishing my broomstick is in order,” he whispered in her ear causing her to let out a breathy laugh. 

“Nev,” she gasped out, riding his hand. “Please.”

“It’s professor,” he corrected with a gentle nip to her neck.

“Fuck… Professor Longbottom, let me polish your broomstick,” she pleaded as he teased her with his fingers and watched her squirm in the mirror, right on the edge. “Please.”

Taking pity on her, he pushed her forward and helped her rest her elbows against the low dressing table, bending her over. “Since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll let you ride it,” he winked at her in the mirror as he slipped his sweats over his hips. A laugh slipped through her lips that he turned to a groan with a rock of his hips. 

“Don’t be such a fucking tease!” she moaned, pressing back against him and glaring at him in the mirror.

“Fine,” he snorted, enjoying the look on her face as he entered her. Watching her in the mirror was his favorite, bringing her to the edge and watching her deep violet eyes as she fell over into the abyss was a particularly pleasurable pastime. 

“Nev, Merlin, please,” she babbled as he rocked into her from behind and toyed with her clit against his thumb. She pushed back against him, her back arching to meet his taller frame more fully as he bent over her. Their heavy breathing harmonized with the soft moans she made and the rhythmic beat of the rocking dressing table against the wall. 

“Dora,” he finally ground out as she fluttered around him with a long gasp, bringing him with her. He pressed his nose to her hair and his lips to her cheek as they leaned against the dressing table panting. She sagged more fully against the table, cooling her face against the surface of the wood, her breasts cushioning her against the hard surface. Neville moved his hands to cup her belly, supporting the weight of it, his firm touch soothing over the warm skin. 

Catching her breath, she lifted her head and turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Once you mentioned having a broomstick I just couldn’t take you seriously any longer,” she finally said with a giggle. 

“Next time I assign you detention, I’ll just come out and say polish my trouser wand, how’s that?”

“I’ll have to come up with something very, very naughty to be assigned such a desirable detention then, won’t I?” she pushed back and turned in his arms pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Mmmm… well, while you’re working on that, Harry invited me to stop by for their Saturday quidditch match. Don’t worry, I’m going to be refereeing from the ground. Drinks after though.”

“Nev,” she said, bending down and finding her dressing gown to slip over her shoulders.

“Hmm,” he answered as he tucked himself back into his pajamas and sought his wand on the bedside table. She watched the lean muscles of his bare back with thinly veiled interest. The auror department had been good for him. To say nothing of all the heavy lifting managing seven greenhouses required.

“Did that qualify as make up sex?” she asked, hiding the note of uncertainty in her voice. The intense way he had made eye contact with her had felt significant. She had felt emotionally naked, as opposed to physically naked, which she was undoubtedly more comfortable with. Although, he had seemed to let down the emotional barrier he had erected between them the past weeks. The devotion and vulnerability in his eyes had been as much of a turn on as his deliberate seduction of every nerve of her body.

“I’d like to thing so,” he said bending down and planting a devastating kiss on her lips.

“Mmm… We’ll have to start fighting more often then,” she joked as he stepped away.

“I’ll bring you curry take away from London for dinner,” he promised, changing into some casual clothes. “The usual okay?”

“I’m going to go to watch the twins for a bit for Luna and Rolf,” she informed him with a nod. “Should be good practice for the coming apocalypse that is my regular life.”

“See you later,” he bussed his lips against her cheek once more before heading downstairs so he could walk to the village and apparate to London. He kicked himself the whole way for his complete inability to keep himself emotionally distant from the dangerous lure that was Pandora Parkinson. The ancient Greeks were right, there was something to be said for opening forbidden things and Pandora. For one, they sure as hell brought chaos to the world.


	7. How to Survive Spring Break

Pansy braced her arms under her ever growing belly and watched Neville dart around the cottage making sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. The tent, tucked into the bright orange rucksack, his bag, her bag, the basket of food from the kitchens. She wasn’t quite sure how he was going to manage taking it all through the floo and highly suspected he would be making several trips.

“I’m near certain we haven’t forgotten anything,” he finally stated.

“Since _I_ packed everything the last couple days, I’m _certain_ we didn’t forget anything,” she huffed, irritated at the way he had darted around the bedroom and bathrooms before checking his study obsessively. “Anything _important_ anyway,” she amended under her breath.

“Alright, well, I’ll go through with the first bags, and then you wait a couple minutes and I’ll be ready for you to come through, and then I’ll come back for the rest of it and seal the out of network floo connection and portkey back with the other bags."

“Got it,” she said standing back and letting him take the first few bags. Floo wasn’t _dangerous_ in her condition, but traveling the larger floo network outside the small closed network at Hogwarts was disorienting and a bad landing on arrival carried some small risks. Especially as she grew more and more ungainly each week. Neville had insisted on going through first to catch her. Considering how athletic he was when it came to _catching_ things, she wasn’t exactly sure how it would go.

Deciding enough time had passed, she stepped in and called out her destination, closing her eyes for the nauseating trip, the slight pressure associated with floo travel more uncomfortable than usual on her stomach. The fresh air of arrival came fast enough and she opened her eyes, trying to brace herself as she felt Neville’s strong pine scented arms surround her and steady her instantly. He gently directed her out of the fireplace in a graceful turn, setting her next to their things. 

“Smooth,” she complimented with a genuine smile at his look of relief. 

“Be right back,” he said tossing in more floo powder and heading back for the rest of their bags. 

She looked around her and wondered how odd it was that some places never truly changed. After England hosted the World cup in ’94, the stadium built for the occasion had be converted into the English League Playoff stadium. Remote and difficult to get to, several large flooports had been built, large freestanding chimneys interspersed throughout the large campgrounds surrounding the stadium. The campground had become a popular destination for Hogwarts Spring Breakers with their families. A week of quidditch games, camping, and plenty of friends and family time. Pansy had never been, but Draco and Astoria came when the Cannons made the playoffs. 

There were already plenty of tents set up, although there were sure to be more by this evening when everyone waiting for their children to get off the express arrived. She watched a middleaged wizard struggle with his self erecting tent as it rebelled against his charms to stay on his campsite and not jostle the large neighboring tent where a witch was hollering at him to get his tent under control. 

“Right,” said Neville, startling her out of her people watching. “We’re up toward the stadium’s east entrance. Harry got an entire block of campsites, so it’s sure to be prime location. Probably right near where the teams are staying!” he babbled excitedly. 

For as terrible as he was on a broom, he was rather enthusiastic about quidditch. It was easier to forget at Hogwarts where quidditch was regulated to a mere seven games a year. Maybe she could convince McGonagall to set up second teams with their own tournament. Some players didn’t make it on the team for years due to lack of vacancy, which was really unfair and left talent undeveloped. 

“Earth to Pandora,” he said, bringing her out of her musings as he pulled her to a stop in front of an empty campsite. At the end of a row, it was next to a rather obnoxious bright orange and blue tent that was multiple stories tall and flying an equally orange Cannon’s flag from the roof. She smirked at the thought of Draco salivating over such a hideous monstrosity. The next tent from that was a more humble looking green, grey, and brown tent that almost disappeared unless you looked directly at it, probably Auror issue. A bright purple and orange one that seemed somewhat chaotic on the other side of that. Leaning back, she tried to get a look at the ones on the other side but was distracted by Neville’s fussing with their own antique.

A remnant of World War II, the round, khaki tent had been Harfang Longbottom’s Ministry issue tent during the Grindelwald Era. As a child, Pansy had developed the opinion that the entire thing smelled of dirty socks and onions, which apparently had not been a good enough reason not to use it because the thing was warded almost as extensively as Hogwarts and portable to boot. 

The Longbottom, Parkinson party at the world cup had slept through the entire death eater fiasco after the ’94 World Cup. The noise blocking charms had allowed them to sleep through the mob, and the curse repelling wards had prevented it from being struck by a single spell, resulting in it being the only undamaged tent in their entire campground on the north side of the stadium where over half the tents had burned. All things considered, being in such a heavily protected tent wasn’t the worst thing imaginable. And it would seem that the assembly charms were working just as well as ever, Neville stepped out of the flap with a wide grin on his face. 

“You’d never guess this was Ministry issued in 1938!” he announced with a grin. “Did I tell you I used it myself on Auror missions?”

“You managed to leave that detail out,” she said, taking a last deep breath of fresh air before following him back in the tent. The circular interior had eight one way windows placed around the room, presumably so no one could sneak up on the inhabitants. A small staircase wound around the outside wall, leading up to the bedrooms. The remaining walls were covered in bookshelves that housed a portable Auror’s library, something that she had realized in fourth year consisted of more erotic novels than she would have expected.

The oversized leather chairs filled the back half of the tent surrounding the circular firepit that was connected to the floo network for calls only but no transport. Memory told her they would carry the deep smell of stale cigar smoke. The kitchen and dining room at the front of the tent held a long table worn with many deep scratches, the stiff backed matching chairs surrounding it with military precision, the icebox, stove, and butcher block made a kitchen area that was small but efficient. Neville appeared to have already tucked their foodbox into the appropriate cupboard specifically designed to keep food fresh. 

“It smells less of old socks,” she said with surprise.

“Like I said, I used it when I was at the ministry. It’s loads nicer than the standard issue ones now. Harry was green with envy the first time we took it out on a mission together. They don’t have room for half the books in the newer issue tents. Much lighter and a smaller magical footprint, but I’m not sure the trade off is really that great,” mused Nev, levitating their bags up to the bedrooms. From experience she knew there were four bedrooms and two baths upstairs. Two on each of the upper floors with a joining bath. She and Neville had shared the top floor, their grandmothers not wanting to use more stairs than necessary. She would have felt like a princess in her tower if not for the rather sparse accommodations of a camp bed and simple dresser, all the shades of beige making it as dull as the outside of the tent.

“How are the warming charms on this thing?” she said tapping her wand on the tent wall. “Think it will get cold overnight?”

“No colder than Hogwarts,” laughed Neville who had heard her frequent complaints about the heating charms at Hogwarts. One of the many reasons they stayed in his cozy Herbologist cottage more than not. 

“I’m talking about for Siberia,” she said going and experimenting with the stove. She wasn’t much for cooking, but she had been known to put the kettle on for a cup of tea. Reaching into a cupboard, she found a shiny silver kettle and filled it absently. 

“Let’s see how you get along this week, and then we’ll discuss Siberia,” he said watching her for a long moment before reaching into a large wooden storebox nestled against the wall and pulling out some crochet blankets that looked suspiciously like the work of Augusta Longbottom, particularly the bright gold and crimson one. 

Cup of tea in hand, the place was downright cozy with the brightly colored blankets and pillows he’d pulled out to soften the harsh boxy leather armchairs. Flicking her wand, she conjured up some wildflowers and transfigured a glass into a rather elegant looking vase. “Tea?” she asked him, levitating the tea tray and pulling a packet of biscuits out of the cupboard. They were his favorites, so she was unsurprised when he took two and flicked his wand at the fire circle and propped his feet up on the stone base. Fixing him a cup, she handed it to him and settled into the armchair next to his.

“Well isn’t this cozy!?” came an excited voice, startling her into clinking her tea cup inelegantly as she turned to see a tall redheaded man barge into the tent, closely followed by his bespeckled shadow. 

“Ron! Harry!” grinned Neville, rising quickly to greet them with loud slaps on the back, setting his tea on the battered sidetable. Having just settled into the deep armchair, she struggled a second against the weight of her pregnant belly before she decided it wasn’t worth the effort to rise and relaxed back against the buttery leather cushions that smelled surprisingly pleasantly of leather polish. She took a sip of the woody Darjeeling tea and watched Neville greet his friends with an enthusiastic grin. 

“Oi! Wotcher!” exclaimed Ron spotting her behind Neville and coming round to greet her. “Didn’t tell me you had a lovely new bird, Nev!” The excessively tall redheaded man reached down to offer and hand in greeting. She looked at it leerily, a smirking Potter over his shoulder what convinced her to take it and give a firm shake. “Ron Weasley,” he said with a surprisingly handsome smile she had never taken notice of before.

“I wouldn’t call myself Nev’s _bird,_ but I tagged along for the week. I hope that’s okay. I’d get up for a proper greeting, but I just sat down. Can I offer you a cup of tea?” she asked with a small laugh and a nod. She flicked her wand, summoning some extra cups and the teapot on the small tea tray poured two more cups. “Cream? Sugar? Biscuit?” She asked, as the redhead nodded.

“Thank you, errr…” Ron was looking at her as he took the floating saucer with another nod. 

“Good to see you again,” said Potter with a mischevious smile. “I take sugar, just a touch.” She flicked her wand and a saucer floated in his direction. The two men took seats in the circle of armchairs, lifting their feet to rest against the hearth in a way that suggested familiarity with their surroundings. Neville settled back into his chair, casually summoning another packet of cookies from the pantry. 

Pansy relaxed as the three men struck up a conversation about the upcoming games, the first of which was tomorrow. She summoned a book from upstairs and tuned them out, sipping tea and rubbing her belly, casually turning the pages with her wand periodically.

“You’re pregnant!” Potter suddenly exclaimed, breaking her concentration on the charms text. 

“Astute observational skills, Auror Potter,” she retorted with an eyeroll causing Weasley to spray his tea as his face reddened.

“Parkinson!” the redheaded gasped as he presumably choked on biscuit. “I thought you looked familiar!”

“Unsurprising that you are no longer with the Ministry, Weasley,” she said biting her cheek as Nev disguised a laugh with a cough.

“What’s the cow doing here!?” Weasley’s hand was on his wand, but Neville was already calmly standing between them with his hands on his hips.

“Now, Ron,” he said in his soothing professor voice. “I know it’s been a few years since you’ve seen Do… Pansy, but she’s a rather old friend, and I’d appreciate if you remembered your manners.”

“I’ll remind you that I’m only fourteen days older than you!” she snapped at Neville, using the sturdy arms of her chair to haul herself up. “And I can stand up for myself just fine, thanks.” She used her bony elbow to push herself around Neville and crossed her arms over her protruding stomach. “Now, I know that you’re a wizard, and in your inferiority are unable to bear children without the help of the superior sex, but I’m certain I must have heard incorrectly.”

Weasley visibly shrunk under her firey purple gaze. 

“You have five seconds to apologize before I inform Granger,” she said inspecting her nails. 

“I’m sorry, Parkinson. I wasn’t… I was just shocked and spoke before I thought.”

“Hardly a new development,” she sighed, rubbing her back. “I’m going to go for a walk, explore a bit.”

“Be careful,” warned Neville. “I’ll figure out something for dinner, so don’t worry about it.”

“Have fun with your boyfriends,” she threw the comment over her shoulder suggestively and closed the tent flap over the sounds of Weasley’s shocked protests.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron demanded Neville as the tent flap fluttered closed behind Pansy. 

“That wasn’t well done of you Ron,” said Neville with a glare. 

“What’s Parkinson doing here!” he scowled looking suspiciously at the tea he had been guzzling. 

“Pansy’s a pretty big quidditch fan, and I invited her along,” said Neville with a huff. 

“I’d say she’s pretty big!” exclaimed Potter. “When did that happen?! You said you _weren’t_ sleeping with her!”

“Oh, well… that’s a long story. Suffice to say Pansy decided she wanted to be a mum without the hassle of a husband. She went to the St. Mungo’s bank. Not mine,” Neville explained casually, glossing over his private speculations on the probability he _was_ the father.

“But….” Weasley was sputtering and red faced while Potter had a look of shock on his face. “That doesn’t explain what she’s doing here!”

“Ron,” snapped Neville, fed up with his friend. “Listen close, because I’m only going to say this once. Pansy and I go way back. We knew each other before we went to Hogwarts, shared tutors and everything. We weren’t exactly friends, but… we have a long shared history. I know she was kind of a bitch at Hogwarts, but we were all immature gits. She’s the Charms professor and head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts. She’s bloody brilliant, hilarious, and completely different from the child you remember. She’s my coworker and my closest friend. And yes, we’re fucking, but don’t bloody tell her I told you because she’ll be pissed. Wanted to see how long it took you.”

Ron sank back into the chair, complete shock on his face.

“Damn Nev, how’d you convince her to give you a chance?” asked Harry with a congratulatory laugh. 

“I honestly don’t know and haven’t questioned it too hard. Afraid she’ll catch on, to be honest,” laughed Nev. 

“Wait, you knew about this?!” exclaimed Weasley to Potter.

“Well, I ran into them over Christmas Holidays in Diagon Alley. She really is different than we remember. She made an impression on James, was sweet to him.”

“What!? You let her around James!?”

“She’s a professor, Ron! She’s good for you Nev. You looked so happy that day. I’m glad you found love after Hannah,” said Harry sincerely. Ron’s jaw was hanging open comically.

“Thanks, but… we’re not… it’s not like that,” Nev stumbled over his words. “She’s… we’re friends. We aren’t… in love. We’re more ‘friends with benefits,’ so to speak. No real commitment. She doesn’t really want the whole marriage thing, and I’ve been there done that. We’re too emotionally damaged by our pasts to… Plus our families would demand the whole white dress robes, standing in front of a ministry official under an enchanted arch while a string quartet plays softly and four hundred of our ‘closest friends and family’ watch with teary eyes.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” snorted Ron. “I’d be happy to tell you how that works out.” He held up his left hand and waggled his ring finger.

“Pahlease, you and Mione were star crossed lovers from the moment you got together!” protested Harry. “Just because she wanted to have a career before tying herself to you legally didn’t mean you were just fuck buddies. Plus, it’s not like you weren’t in a committed relationship.”

“Whatever… just saying… emotionally damaged people get married every day.”

“Pretty sure Pansy was the one who found her Aunt after her uncle murdered her, so… I think that put her off the whole pureblooded husband thing,” confessed Neville running a hand through his dark hair. “And seventh year wasn’t sunshine and roses for her either. She barely trusts men. She probably only trusts me because we’ve known each other since before we could talk. I’m practically her brother.”

“Wow… that’s… for the record, I don’t think she would shag her brother,” Harry said, tugging at his shirt collar even though it was a loose Hollyhead tee. “If we’re going to discuss tragic pasts, can we drink something stronger?” He got up and walked to the wall, moving a few strategic books and pulling out a decanter of firewhiskey. 

“How about we drop the subject of my wild and varied sex life with my incredibly sexy coworker?” suggested Neville draining his tea and holding the cup out for Harry to pour. 

“Yeah, talking about Parkinson like this is kind of grossing me out,” complained Weasley. “I mean… she’s _pregnant_ with another bloke’s spawn. How can you? Nope, don’t want to know.”

“It’s twins, actually,” Neville informed him.

“Run, run fast, man,” suggested Weasley with a shake of his head. “Kids are hard. If the stupid little buggers weren’t me and Mione’s… yeah… no.”

“I…” Neville found that there were apparently things he could freely discuss with Draco Malfoy, his school bully, and not his previous coworkers and housemates. “Look, it’s complicated, but… I’m going be more honest with you that I can usually be with myself. I’m completely in love with her. And I know I’m probably setting myself up for heartbreak worse than when Hannah ditched me for that prick McMillian, but… I’ll do anything for that witch. Whatever scraps of affection… She’s… there’s just something about her. I don’t expect you to understand, but if you could be nice to her this week. She can be a bit of a moody bitch, but she’s _my_ moody bitch.”

“Say no more, Longbottom,” said Ron with a surprising amount of understanding. Then again, he _was_ married to _Hermione Granger_. “So who do you think will win the league cup?”

Pansy wandered back as it was starting to get dark. She spotted Granger and a gaggle of children in the yard next door, two little redheads and two little black haired boys that had to be Potter’s. Slipping into the tent, she found the three men still sitting around the fire, roaring with laughter, their delicate teacups obviously no longer holding tea. 

“I thought you were going to feed me, Longbottom?” she crossed her arms over her chest and watched the three men turn to look at her. 

“Right,” he said scratching his head. “Errr… How do you feel about muggle pizza?” It was one of the take out foods they had started getting regularly on their weekends off from Professor duties.

“I’m not sure where you think you’re apparating like that,” she scolded. “Granger’s next door and looks like she needs a break from child minding. I’ll send her on a mission. I’m willing to bet she knows a place and it doesn’t look like she’s had a chance to get dinner going for your families either. Hand over the magic muggle money.” She held out her hand expectantly and Neville passed over his Tesco card. “Thank you,” she sing songed and flitted out the door.

“Do you have a muggle credit card?” asked Harry with amusement.

“Well of course,” answered Neville watching as Pansy crossed the yard and approached Hermione Weasley.

“And Parkinson knows how they work?”

“If there’s one thing she knows how to do it’s spend money,” laughed Neville watching as Granger came forward as if introducing herself.

“Hey!” Pansy called across the small grass area, not stepping over the invisible boundary that marked the campsite.

“Oh hello!” came a flustered reply as Hermione adjusted the six month old on her hip. 

“So, I’m not sure if you recognize me, but it’s Parkinson, Pansy,” she said with a wave.

“Oh…. Wow… um… yes. Hello,” Hermione stepped forward and held out a hand.

“Potter and your husband are next door with Nev,” she said shaking her head and waving off the formalities. “They’re half sauced, but we probably need to feed your little ones, and I don’t know about you but, I’m about to collapse from hunger,” she told Hermione in a no nonsense manner. “Of the five of us, you’re the only one who can apparate out and get us pizza. Nev’s going to pay for it.” She held up the golden credit card and wiggled her eyebrows with a smirk.

“That’s… that’s a muggle credit card,” sputtered a flabbergasted Hermione.

“You aren’t the brightest witch of the age for nothing,” drawled Pansy with an ironic tilt of her lips. “What do you say? Free pizza? I’ll even watch these little future gryffindors for you.”

“I don’t know or trust you, Parkinson, if that’s _really_ who you are,” a suddenly suspicious Granger reached for her wand. 

“Allright!” Pansy backed up with her hands in the air innocently. “How about I grab your husband and he can help me watch the kids at Nev’s tent. I’ll bring him back in just a second.” Pansy hustled over to the tent flap and ducked her head inside, shortly followed by the emergence of the three men. 

“Mione!” called Ron across the short distance. “Pansy says she’ll watch the kids if you go get us take away! Nev trusts her, and apparently McGonagall since she’s… hic… you know… the charms teacher at Hogwarts.”

Pansy smirked internally as Granger practically snatched the credit card from her hand and exchanged it with a sticky infant. “Harm a hair on their heads and you’re dead, Parkinson,” she whispered in her ear before turning to the children who were playing in the yard, largely ignoring the adults as they collected bugs and put them in a jar that had been charmed to keep the insects in without a lid. “James, Al, Rosie, Miss Pansy is going to stay with you for a while so I can go get Pizza!”

“PIZZA!” the three exclaimed. 

“Hi Miss Dora!” said James recognizing Pansy. “Did you bring ice cream?”

“Not today. What are we collecting here?” she asked, obviously they were some kind of charm devised by Granger to keep them occupied, it was too early in the year for bugs. 

“Bugs.”

“Hmm… I’ve never seen bugs like these. Are you sure they aren’t Nargles?” she asked with amusement.

“Maybe!” squealed the youngest of the three. “What do nargles look like!?”

The Weasley-Granger tent was spacious and modern, the colors much more muted on the inside. In Pansy’s opinion, it seemed to suit Granger’s personality as much as the outside did Weasley’s. She kept to herself for the short dinner she and Neville shared with the golden trio and their children. 

“I’m genuinely concerned about the Granger-Weasley combo when they get to Hogwarts,” she confessed to Neville on the way back to their tent. “Granger’s brains and the Weasley penchant for mischief. We’re doomed.”

* * *

The box was high on the south side of the stadium, anyone other than Potter would have had to pay a fortune for it, but he probably got a lifetime free pass considering how revered he was in society. Pansy entered the lion’s den with trepidation. The trick was not to let on how nervous you were. Let them see your fear and they jumped all over you. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. 

It was a good thing she was used to doing so many stairs at Hogwarts because there were altogether too many required to get up here. Luckily there was a table with food and refreshments. Pouring herself a glass of water, she drank deeply before handing it to Nev to finish off. England had gifted them a rare sunny spring morning for quidditch. She didn’t expect the weather to hold the week, but a glorious morning all the same. 

“Wotcher, Nev!” exclaimed Harry with a smile.

“What’s this?!” exclaimed Ron. “How have I known you since we were eleven and not known you were an Arrows fan?!” Nev gave a shrug and laughed. He was wearing Arrows gear head to toe, and Pansy was too. The expansion charm on her jersey had taken some skill to pull off.

“Dora and I grew up in Appleby,” laughed Nev, reaching for the offered tumbler of whiskey. “Pretty sure Dora here is the biggest Arrows fan ever.”

“If that was a fat joke, you better take it back right now, Vile,” she complained elbowing him. 

“We both know you’d still be the biggest Arrows fan, even if you weren’t seven months pregnant with twins,” he quipped giving her belly a gentle rub as he wrapped his arm around her and helped her to the front of the box.

“Hell yeah,” she gave a wicked grin. “Ohhh, look, it’s Maverick Smith! Think he will do autographs after the game?!”

“I mean… the arrows aren’t playing today, but maybe?”

“So who are we going to root for?” she asked looking at the day’s matchups in the program. 

“Well, Harry’s wife is on the Harpies… so…”

“Mmmm… and they are playing the Falcons, who you know I dislike on principle.”

“Okay, luv. Go Harpies!”

* * *

Pansy looked at a relaxed Neville across from her and wondered how she had managed to end up here. After five days of casual dinners and hanging out at the quidditch games, she was getting pretty comfortable with these gryffindors. Draco was going to find this hilarious. Weaselette was the only other one who hadn’t been drinking tonight, and that was likely due to the fact she had a one month old. Granger was more relaxed than Pansy had seen her after drinking a glass of wine. In fact, she had been the one to suggest the game. 

“Let’s play that game George gave us for our anniversary!” she had said to her husband, pulling open her small beaded bag and digging around before pulling out a bright purple box. “Lover’s Duel!”

“What’s this now?” asked Neville, leaning forward.

“It’s a game George came up with. Kind of a how well do you and your partner know each other. You play against other couples. Some of the questions are funny or embarrassing, and some just help you get to know each other better. Mione brought a muggle version to mum and dad’s anniversary last year and it was hilarious to see them answer. George made a version we haven’t gotten to try yet,” answered Ron. “We need to pilot it for the store, and it would be fun.”

“It really wouldn’t be fair to make Pansy and Neville play, though,” said Ginny. “We’ve been married for years…”

“We’ll play,” interjected Pansy. “We might even win!”

“And there’s that slytherin ambition,” laughed Neville. “Sure, we’re game. It’s just for fun.”

“Well…” drawled Ron. “When we play games, we usually play for babysitting. Loser has to babysit for the winners for a weekend.”

“You do realize I have twins in here?” asked Pansy rubbing her belly. “Think you can handle it?”

“Alright, I’m up for winning some free babysitting,” laughed Ginny looking gleefully at Potter. 

“Great, so each round we’ll pull a card, one person from each couple has to answer depending on which round it is. While they answer, their partner holds this enchanted ball. If their partner answers correctly, the ball will glow gold. If they answer incorrectly, the ball will turn a smoky purple. There are ten rounds, and the couple with the most points at the end wins!”

“I’ll draw first!” said Ginny pulling a card from the first deck. “What was your partner’s first bit of accidental magic? Oh, that’s tricky, because I am not sure Harry even knows.” Harry held the truth ball and raised his eyebrows at his wife expectantly. “Umm…. I think he was being chased by his cousin and somehow jumped or apparated onto a roof.” The ball glowed purple. 

“No, first thing I remember was shrinking clothes I didn’t want to wear because they were itchy! I told you when James did that!”

“Ugggh!” exclaimed Ginny with a frown as Harry passed the ball to Ron. 

“This is easy, Molly loves to tell this one,” laughed a confident Hermione with a flip of her long curls. “Ron summoned Ginny’s favorite stuffed unicorn into her crib to comfort her because she was crying. Molly didn’t know where she had left it and suddenly it sailed into the room and into Ginny’s arms.” The ball glowed golden and Ron grinned at his wife before tossing it to a flustered Nev who nearly dropped it.

“Nev has always been good with plants. He did some sort of healing magic on my mother’s roses after I cut them all with my scissors. He reattached them before the gardener came back with my mum, who was furious. Poor gardener thought he was going crazy because we pretended nothing had happened.”

“Huh, I always kind of forget about that. Gran never really knew about that and was always trying to get me to do stuff. I never managed anything very obvious until…”

“Uncle Alfie dropped you out the window. Honestly…” finished Pansy with a shake of her head. 

“Huh,” said Harry. “Well…. Next question is, favorite season. That’s easy… Ginny’s is summer, because that’s when her birthday is.” The Potter’s gained a point.

“Hermione’s favorite is winter, because she loves Christmas!”

“NO!” scolded Hermione. “I love fall, because I like the changing colors and the start of the new school year was always wonderful!”

“Sorry, how could I bloody forget what a swot you are!” bickered Ron, causing his wife to turn red before Neville interjected.

“Spring’s your favorite. You look forward to it all winter because you love the flowers so much.”

“And because I hate the cold. Don’t forget that,” agreed Pansy. 

“You know each other really well,” complimented Hermione before pulling the next card. Her faced turned a bright red that matched her husband’s hair. “Favorite sexual position,” she read aloud. “I didn’t realize this was going to be so racy!”

“George made it, what did you expect,” Ron quipped with a raised brow.

“Ron likes it when I’m on top,” she said blushing again as Harry childishly plugged his ears. Team Weasley gained a point. 

“Harry likes reverse broomstick rider,” laughed Ginny causing her brother to turn pale. Point team Potter.

“Nev likes me bent over a desk or table from behind. Bonus points if there’s a mirror handy so he can watch my face.” Nev shrugged and nodded as the other gryffindors gave him slightly startled looks, the only pair not in an official relationship was winning. 

“What can I say, she knows me well.”

“Favorite subject at Hogwarts,” said Ron reading the next card. “Oh bloody hell… is all of them an answer? Umm… Charms.”

“It’s arithmancy you dolt!” scolded Hermione. 

“Uggh, I knew that!” groaned Ron.

“Charms,” laughed Nevilled looking at Pansy who blew him a kiss.

“Transfiguration,” said Harry to Ginny who nodded as the ball turned gold.

“All right, so next question is,” Pansy drew a card from the next stack. “What is your partner’s favorite quidditch team. Easy, the Arrows. He’s loved them since we were four.” Point Pansy.

“He better bloody say the Harpies,” said Ginny, watching with anger as the ball turned smoky.

“Look, I’ve always really loved Puddlemere, and Oliver’s on the team… and I love _you,_ but the Harpies aren’t my favorite playing style.”

“You are on thin ice Potter…”

“Alright… well easy point for me. Clearly the Cannons.”

“That’s right, why do you keep getting the easy ones!”

“Arithmancy wasn’t hard to come up with, Ronald!”

“Ohhhkay…. Next question… of course I get the dirty one…” Neville cleared his throat nervously. “Who did your partner give their virginity to? Well… I think I had the honor of being the first person Pansy _gave_ herself to.” He looked up and hid his surprise as the ball glowed gold. He had framed his answer carefully so Pansy wouldn’t have to say anything awkward about seventh year if pressed.

“Huh, I always assumed you and Draco were a thing,” said Hermione.

“Nope, he was really too consumed by the war to have an interest,” said Pansy meeting eyes with Neville in silent thank you. “Besides, he’s like a brother to me.”

“Michael Corner,” huffed out Potter with a look of annoyance.

“Me,” grinned Weasley giving his wife a sappy look. 

“How can you two possibly have a perfect score right now?” demanded Hermione.

“We have 11 years of friendship on you guys. Our Grans were best friends our entire childhoods. We shared nannys from age 1 and tutors from age 5.”

“We didn’t get along perfect, fought more than didn’t, but we were inseparable.”

“Because you wouldn’t leave me alone,” she huffed.

“Weird that no one at Hogwarts knew…” pondered Ron.

“Ohh… I was furious at him for being a Gryffindor.”

“The hat knew I would be a horrible slytherin,” he said with a shrug.

“Wait, I thought your hatstall was between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff!” exclaimed Hermione.

“No, I wanted to go to Ravenclaw, Dora and I were going to both try and get Ravenclaw so we wouldn’t be alone. Hat insisted I was a true Gryffindor. She ended up a Slytherin then.”

“Fascinating,” said Hermione with wide eyes.

“How about we go on with the game?” asked Pansy. “What is your partner’s biggest regret? Oh this is obviously marrying Abbot.” Nev tossed the golden ball to Harry.

“The fiasco with the department of mysteries that led to Sirius’s death,” said Ginny, also earning a point.

“Leaving me and Harry during our camping trip,” Hermione said earning a point.

“My turn,” said Harry pulling another card. “What is your partner’s dementor?” He looked at Ginny, “A young Tom Riddle.” Point Potters.

“Our daughter Rose having a severe allergic reaction to almonds.” Point Weasleys.

Nev looked at her, trying to ask if he should get it wrong. “I want to win, Nev.”

“Fine. Carrow.” The ball turned gold and she tossed it to Harry who appeared puzzled. The rest of the game was easy enough with the girls naming the boy’s favorite ice cream and the Boys naming the girls favorite colors.

“So how long is this free babysitting good for?” asked Pansy brushing off her lap as she got to her feet.

“It’s one evening each and no expiration,” sighed Hermione. “Although we didn’t know you were going to school us.”

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to gamble anything you weren’t willing to lose?” joked Pansy. “Besides, I’m sure the twins will be perfect angels the night we ask you to babysit. No promises for you though, Potter.”

“I almost feel bad smoking them so badly,” she said as they got ready for bed. 

“I don’t. Harry and Ron totally thought one of them was getting free babysitting off of us.”

“You’re right. Always underestimating us.” She sank into bed and watched as he took off his shirt, revealing his delicious muscles. “That game was fun, but we could never play with my friends. Draco and Theo are too good at Legilimency, and I don’t trust them not to cheat.”

“Harry and Ron don’t know that though,” pondered Neville crawling into bed. “Maybe we could get a game together with both groups…”

“I love it when you go Slytherin on me, Longbottom,” she laughed snuggling into his arms.

“Does this mean you’d like to see my ‘snake’?” he wiggled his eyebrows making her laugh. 

“Does it live in your trousers?” she asked attempting a serious face and failing.

“Why yes it does… but it would love to come out and play.”

“Merlin, you’re terrible, and I kind of love you for it,” she giggled pressing her lips to his. 

**Sorry for the quite long span between updates. I need to write the next chapter, but this has been slowly added to regularly until you got this nice little vacation chapter. Happy 2021.**


	8. Unraveling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a plan has loose ends, you might expect it to come unraveled.

Pansy could only describe the way she climbed the stairs anymore as waddling. None of her robes really fit properly any longer, her stomach protruding so much they couldn’t button. She had broken down and gone maternity clothes shopping in Hogsmeade, so at least her clothes underneath fit properly, but she refused to buy new robes on principle. She paused halfway up and looked over her shoulder at a patient Neville. The quidditch finals, Gryffindor vs Slytherin were today, and she was determined to watch, but she was already regretting how much tea she had with breakfast. Her bladder was agonizingly small and quidditch games were long. This was her second trip to the bathroom in three hours and these stairs got taller every time. 

“You can do it love, only two more flights,” he said rubbing her back.

“Yes,” she agreed. “If we take much longer, the other teachers will think we’ve popped out for a snog beneath the stands.”

“Complete sixth year fantasy. Are you saying that’s on the table?”

“Maybe another time,” she said propelling herself back into motion. One of the babies was sitting right on her left hip and it hurt like a bitch every time she led with that leg, so instead her right thigh was on fire doing all the work. 

“I’m glad your healer has you starting on bedrest next week. All the stairs in this big old place aren’t good for you,” his voice sounded worried.

“I’m fine. I’m very fit for a pregnant woman because of all these stairs. She just wants me taking it easier and teaching seven years of classes and standing all day isn’t really great. So since I’m high risk with twins, I’ll agree. But I’m really doing very well. Just a few more weeks.”

“Yes, well it makes me worry less anyways.”

“You should worry more about Gryffindor losing the match. You _do_ remember what I get when they win.”

Pansy slumped in the reclining chair in the den at the cottage. She was too exhausted to do anything but stare at the fire. Today had really worn her down, and to top it off Gryffindor had won the cup. She watched as Nev entered the room from the kitchen, a smug grin plastered on his face. 

“I finally won one!” he announced delightedly. “You’re going to be doing my grading for two weeks!”

“I suppose it’s a good thing I’m on bedrest and won’t have to do any teaching then,” she sighed.

“Yes, Hermione said she was going to stop by tomorrow for the final lesson plans for next week. Do you have them all ready?”

“Of course I do. You told her to come here, not the charms office, right?”

“Yes. No point in you making a special trip there. One less floo trip.”

“Is it wrong I want to floo upstairs to the bedroom? I’m too tired to go up the stairs,” she moaned. 

“I could carry you,” he suggested.

“I’ll risk walking myself,” she decided, using both arms to propel herself out of her chair and toward the stairs. 

“I think you overdid it today,” chided Nev as they progressed upstairs.

“You’re right.”

“Wow, twice in one day. This must be a record!” he joked.

“You’re also insufferable.”

“But you love me anyways,” he said helping her with her shoes. 

“I’d love you more if you rubbed my feet,” she suggested.

“It’s so very slytherin of you to manipulate me this way. It’s impossible to deny you anything when you’re like this.”

“You mean fat and pitiful?”

“Your words.”

“You’re too good to me,” she sighed leaning back against the pillows.

“You need to rest, your feet are actually pretty swollen. Do you think we should check with Poppy?”

“She looked at me last week, it’s fine. I’m just eight months gone with twins.”

“Luna’s feet never looked like this!”

“Ohhh, are you intimately acquainted with Luna’s feet now?”

“No… just… she never _said_ they got all swollen. She never had hip issues either.”

“Well then Luna is a freak of nature, what can I say?” snapped Pansy.

“We’ve always known she was a bit odd,” agreed Nev with a wink.

“Merlin, you’re hard to stay mad at,” she laughed. 

“Let me get you a nightgown or you’re going to fall asleep in your clothes,” he suggested as she yawned.

“Fine, but only because I’m too lazy to do it myself,” she conceded. “It’s nice to have someone to take care of me. You really don’t have to.” She pulled her sweater over her head and laughed as he helped her get out of her slacks. 

“I enjoy it,” he said slipping her nightgown over her head and dropping a kiss on her cheek. “Now rest up. I’m going to go downstairs and take care of some things in the nocturnal greenhouse before bed.”

“Ohhh, make sure you wash up in the greenhouse sink and leave your muddy things in the greenhouse. Last time the bathroom was disgusting.”

“You would think this was your place and not mine,” laughed Neville, buzzing her on the check with his lips, his light evening stubble grazing her check.

“I just love it here. The charms apartments are lovely, but… there’s something so homey about this snug little cottage. It’s not part of some massive castle, it almost feels like a little home in the countryside surrounded by gardens on a lake. I mean, it’s fairly secluded and… it just feels right here…”

“It does feel like a smaller version of the manor,” he confessed leaning against the dark oak doorway. “A slightly less formal version with about a dozen less bedrooms, and no ballroom or dining room.”

“That’s probably it. It feels like somewhere someone could grow up. Like our home back at Appleby.”

“What I’m hearing is that I need to officially paint the bedroom next door next weekend and convert it into the official Parkinson Twin nursery.”

“I was thinking a pale green might be nice,” she said with a sleepy but sly grin. “Luna offered to do a mural with some plants and animals on the walls.”

“I brought all the nursery things and baby gifts we’ve been storing in your apartments over last week in anticipation. Seamus is coming over Saturday to help me set it up.”

“As long as he doesn’t set anything on fire,” she joked snuggling into her pillow. He watched her yawn and close her eyes from his spot at the door. Just knowing that she wanted some kind of permanence here with him resonated with him. He couldn’t imagine coming back to bed after a night in the nocturnal greenhouse and not having her warmth there to greet him. Everything about her was completely under his skin, like English ivy on an old brick house. 

Pansy sighed and looked at the clock. Time seemed to pass more slowly when you had nothing to do, and after three days of bedrest she was completely bored. The first two days she had caught up on all of her grading as well as all of Neville’s. She had visited with Luna and helped her with the twins both mornings. Apparently Luna _was_ a freak of nature and hadn’t had any hip pain with her babies, who were both growing more every day. They looked like Luna, although they weren’t identical. One seemed to be developing a rather Ralph-like personality while they other seemed rather more like his mother.

Today she had spent the morning sitting outside by the lake reading up on all the recent charms research she hadn’t been up to date on. 

Now she had made herself some lunch and was bored. Sitting at the kitchen table, she looked out on the greenhouses. She perked up seeing Neville cross between the castle where he had been for lunch and head for greenhouse 4. It was a nice day, and he had probably discarded his robes this morning. With his bright red braces holding up his trousers, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his tie loosened, his wand tucked behind his ear, and a textbook under his arm, he looked like a cross between a professor and a farmer. She was only slightly alarmed to realize she found the combination irresistible. 

Pushing her hair behind her ears, she decided a visit to the greenhouses was in order. There was still twenty minutes before his next class started and she was bored.

“Any more grading for me?” she asked, slipping inside the warm humid air of the greenhouse. He was leaning over his desk reading something and looked up with a grin, his pale blue eyes twinkling. 

“Not yet, but last class of the day will be turning in a three foot essay, so you can look forward to that.”

“As long as it isn’t about soil properties again,” she laughed, coming around the desk and giving him a peck on the lips before turning to inspect the potted plants on the table near it. 

“No, this one is about tropical plants,” he smirked. “So you miss me, or are you just bored?”

“Can’t it be both?” she asked, sitting in his rarely used desk chair and propping her feet up on a nearby upturned pot. 

“I suppose, although I doubt you miss me that much. You just saw me this morning.”

“I know, but I saw you walking up from the castle with the rare spring sunshine on your face and you looked so irresistibly handsome, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Is that what happened?” he snorted crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against his desk with a smirk.

“And I finished all my charms periodicals. I’m desperate for something to do. Maybe you can help me floo up to the fourth floor and I can spend the afternoon in the library?”

Neville grinned and clapped his hands in ironic applause. “And that ladies and gentlemen brings us to the real reason for this unexpected visit.”

“Please?” she said giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, but we’d better hurry. I’ve got fourth years in seven minutes,” he said glancing at his watch. “I’ll come collect you before dinner and we can inter-hogwarts floo down to the great hall for dinner.”

He found her curled up in her favorite corner of the library, sound asleep just before dinner. A table of giggling fifth years watched him approach her with obvious amusement. She had clearly fallen asleep a while ago, the comfy reading chair probably less comfortable for sleeping, her neck at an awkward angle against the wingback, her feet on a green footstool she had obviously conjured up herself. 

“Dora?” he whispered, keeping his voice low so the fifth years wouldn’t be able to hear. “You’re going to miss dinner.”

“Did I fall asleep?” she mumbled, rubbing her stomach and reaching for the heavy book in her lap. 

“Yes, did you have a nice nap?” he asked, trying not to laugh as she stretched like a cat. 

“Yes, it was so warm and sunny next to the window. I must have closed my eyes for a second.”

“Come on, let me help you up. _Charms for Childrearing_ seems an odd choice for a Hogwarts book.” He held up the surprisingly heavy book and scanned the back cover.

“I found it useful. Sneak it in your pocket, I want to take it home and finish it.”

“We’re professors, we are allowed to take books out of the library.”

“Old habits die hard,” she muttered struggling to get out of the chair. He helped her to her feet and surreptitiously shrunk the book and slipped it in his pocket. No sense in going through the formal check out procedure. Pansy was right. 

“Ohhh, they are having a little quidditch match in there,” she complained grabbing his hand and pressing it to her stomach. He grinned as he felt the little kicks. She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder looking out the window where the last of a beautiful afternoon sun was starting to cast shadows on the grounds. “It would be a nice day for a quidditch match.”

“Maybe they think your bladder is a bludger,” he teased, trying to ignore the soft whispers coming from the fifth years. He knew they were being watched and he suspected Pansy would be embarrassed to know she was being so openly affectionate with him. 

“Don’t even get me started on that Vile,” she moaned. “But I’m _starving_. Do you think they will be serving that almond crumb cake I like? Do you think the house elves will make some if I request it?”

“We’ll have to see,” with a hand on the small of her back, he started them toward the fireplace near the front of the library. He raised an eyebrow at the gaggle of fifth years still clearly gossiping about them. He gave them his most serious auror look that seemed to shut down any student shenanigans and was pleased to note they all made themselves to appear studious before Pansy realized they had been watching them. 

Friday morning Neville had left a sleeping Pansy in their bedroom while he headed to breakfast in the great hall. He would bring her back something. He piled his plate with hotcakes and looked over to see Luna frowning at her copy of the prophet.

“You really shouldn’t let Pansy see this,” she said looking at him with an unusually serious face. “I think it will really upset her.”

“See what?” he said trying to peek at her paper.

“You made page seven,” Luna said turning to show a large photo of him and Pansy in the library, her looking very pregnant as she leaned her head on his shoulder and he rubbed her belly. The angle was completely wrong for it to have been the fifth years who had been behind them toward the door. The sappy look on his face was rather embarrassing, and the sleepy Pansy in the photo was one that he was certain she preferred not to share with the world. Below was a second picture of them at the English League tournament wearing their matching Arrows gear. The caption above the article read, “Hogwarts Romance confirmed, Longbottom Heir and Parkinson Heiress expecting Twins!”

“This is complete nonsense!” he muttered, gritting his teeth in frustration.

“Is it though?” asked Luna taking a sip of her tea with a knowing look. “You wish it was true.”

“The thing is though…. It could be. But this is a clear invasion of our privacy. Dora’s going to be furious, and our families are going to be completely ridiculous. I mean… I hadn’t exactly told gran that we were… whatever it is we are…”

“Completely arse over tits for each other? Hopelessly useless without each other?” Luna suggested.

“Of all the times for this to happen… she’s exhausted and more emotional than usual, and I’m more than a little worried about her.”

“Of course you are, it’s your job to take care of her,” agreed Luna.

“Well, this isn’t going to help. And the chances of me keeping this from her are practically zero.”

“Do me a favor and don’t let her find out herself. Break it to her gently.”

“You want to come with me?” he asked hopefully.

“I know people think I’m crazy,” said Luna giving him a sardonic look. “But I’m not _that_ crazy. Have you seen that witch with a wand?”

He’d convinced the house elves to make that almond crumb cake to take her for breakfast. Maybe if her stomach was happy, she wouldn’t be that mad. He hurried upstairs, hoping to find her in bed still asleep. Maybe he could wake her up with a kiss and get her in a good mood.

“If you’re here to try and sweeten me up for bad news, I’ve already read the society section,” she said looking at him over the top of the Prophet as he came in their bedroom, breakfast tray in hand. 

“On a scale of Helga Hufflepuff to Voldemort, how murderous are you feeling right now?” he asked. 

“I’m going to go with Narcissa Malfoy. Fully capable, but unwilling to stoop to the level. Exploring other means of action.”

“Sounds about right,” he chuckled presenting the breakfast tray. “Brought you some breakfast.”

“It’s scary how well you know me,” she sighed reaching for the tray with a smile.

“So what’s your plan, and don’t pretend you don’t have one.”

“I knew this day would eventually come, I mean I can’t keep a baby a secret, let alone two. I’ve written the fertility clinic with permission for them to release a statement that I am a patient who utilized the sperm bank and the child is confirmed not to be yours.”

“Wouldn’t it be enough to just say you utilized the clinic?”

“Might as well just come right out and say stop bothering Longbottom,” she said with a wave of her hand as she savored her cake. Neville ignored the pull of anxiety that he should tell her the truth about being a donor.

“So you’ll send that to the prophet and request a retraction on their affront to my honor?” he joked instead.

“Naturally, and since my cousin is the bloody owner of that stupid rag, I’m going to demand he fire any staff that refuses to print it.” He watched her summon a paper and begin writing a letter.

“Ohhh, getting Theo involved now, this _is_ serious.”

“Everything with Theo is serious. That’s just how he is.”

“I’m surprised he allowed it to be printed at all.”

“Oh, he doesn’t take a day to day interest in the paper. He’s rather hands off, but I would have hoped an editor would have given him a heads up. Rather lax on his part.”

“You tell em, luv,” he said watching her quill speed across parchment. 

“Oh I will,” she said with a mischievous grin. Neville tried to shrug off the deep sense of foreboding about this. He was surprised she wasn’t more upset.

Pansy woke up to the sun shining across her face. A stretch of her limbs confirmed that Nev had snuck out of bed while she was still asleep. Rolling over into the middle of the bed, she inhaled the scent of his pillow and yawned. It was a beautiful spring morning, the tree outside their bedroom window bursting with white flowers. Glancing at the sun in the sky, she realized she might have slept past noon, which considering how hard it had been to fall asleep last night with the twins, she was not surprised. They had been very active, and then she had been up and down to the bathroom. Her back had ached, and she couldn’t get comfortable. She had probably woken Nev at least 10 times before she had finally fallen asleep for that last stretch of the night. 

Propelling herself out of bed, she got up and used the bathroom. Her dark curls were a complete mess this morning. Deciding she didn’t really care, she slipped on a green dressing gown covered in purple pansies that didn’t really fit anymore. Nothing really fit anymore, which is why she had used some extension charms on one of Nev’s old t-shirts to manage a nightgown. He had been amused to see her in Gryffindor colors and she had decided she wouldn’t be upset if the experimental clothing expansion had ruined that particular shirt. Plus it smelled like him. Frowning, she discarded the dressing gown and grabbed the blue one that Nev rarely wore even in the dead of winter. The sleeves were much too long, but it was a lot cozier and it fit. 

Opening the door of the hall, she immediately smelled paint and remembered that Nev was painting the nursery today. Ignoring her previous thoughts of tea and cinnamon rolls, she padded down the hall to the east facing bedroom they had chosen for the nursery. The door was open, giving her a view of Nev in a worn gryffindor shirt and old jeans that had some green paint splatters on them. It was going to be a pain to charm that out. He was currently looking at some sort of diagram and had some parts strewn out in front of him. 

“Coming through!” came a voice behind her, prompting her to step down the hall as someone came from behind carrying a large wooden rocking chair. She watched Finnegan carry the rocker and set it in the corner by the window. Nev looked up from his things and met her eyes with a grin.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he said hopping to his feet and crossing the room to greet her with a morning kiss.

“Ha, I’m an utter mess this morning, but you’ve been busy!” she said turning in a circle. The pale green walls were cheery and Luna had made good on the promise of a mural, and entire wall covered in a flower filled forest scene with animals, Unicorns, hippogryffs, and fairies. The matching cribs had been brought from Parkview along with other nursery furniture that had been used by her mother Violet and her twin sister Daisy. The pureblood antique furniture fit the theme of the room perfectly, the vine carving on the crib rails echoed in the mural. Pansy felt oddly emotional at such a small thing as having the room painted, damn pregnancy hormones. 

“Luna was here at the crack of dawn, and your mum was very helpful getting the furniture here.”

“I’m sure she was,” snorted Pansy. “How many elves did it take?”

“Only two,” he laughed. “Seamus and I have been carrying it all upstairs after we finished painting.”

“Looks great,” she said turning to face Finnegan. “Nice to see you again, Finnegan.”

“It’s been a long time,” he said with a polite nod.

“How’s Thomas?” she asked bending to open a box marked _books_ in Augusta Longbottom’s handwriting. 

“Good, he’s officially taken over as head of the Muggle Relations Department at the Ministry.”

“That’s wonderful! He should ask Blaise about donations at the next Ministry Fundraiser.”

“Zambini?” asked Finnegan.

“Their father would have wanted them to support each other,” she said inspecting the books she remembered from her childhood. Nev’s favorites were all here.

“Huh,” said Finnegan looking at the messy haired witch in a new light.

“Where have you guys settled down? Did I miss the wedding?” asked Pansy suddenly looking right at the man with her bright violet eyes.

“Err… no, we… We haven’t married.”

“That’s a shame. Well, I’m sure Neville can bring me as a plus one, but send an invitation round when you do.”

“Dora…. Dean and Seamus aren’t…” Neville was flushed as he tried to explain.

“Oh Merlin!” she gasped turning from Nev to the Irish guest. “I’m so sorry, did you break up!?”

“Er… actually, no,” the sandy haired man scratched his neck awkwardly. “We just… Most people don’t…”

“I’ve outed you!?” exclaimed Pansy, turning red. 

“Well, our families and a few people know, and most of our friends in Ireland, where we live.”

“But not Nev?” she said looking at a wide eyed Neville who appeared to have finally realized something that had probably made sense for a long time.

“Well, not exactly.”

“I’m kind of an idiot, aren’t I?” asked Nev with a sudden laugh.

“Most definitely,” agreed Pansy with a roll of her eyes. “I wondered why you hadn’t invited Thomas as well. Send him an owl and we can have them both for dinner.”

“Would Dean want to join us for dinner?” asked Neville looking to his longtime friend with a look of apology.

“I mean, he’s not doing anything but sitting at home watching footie.”

“I mean you guys have lived together for years… How did I not see it?” Neville had always been a little slow about certain things, Pansy was pretty sure.

“You see what we want you to see,” confessed a contrite looking Finnegan. “We just don’t know how people will react, and it’s easier this way. The wizarding world isn’t as open to things as the muggle world. We decided it would be easier this way.”

“Weasley survived finding out I was sleeping with Nev here,” put in Pansy. “Plus Potter is sleeping with his sister. If he can stomach that, he can stomach his friends being gay. Anyone who cares was never your friend anyway.”

“How did you know?” asked Finnegan to Pansy.

“I mean, it was obvious. I went to school with the two of you for six years. You were obviously together in sixth year after his disastrous relationship with Ginny Weasley. You missed him like mad seventh year. I honestly don’t know how this one missed it!”

“In my defense, I was running the DA!” protested Neville. “Besides, you were always running off to see your Great Uncle Basil and his husband Ambrose. You probably saw their relationship differently because of your uncles.”

“Probably,” agreed Pansy. “In either case, this once again proves you are horrible at knowing your friends.”

“But he is a good friend!” put in Finnegan. “He’s helped us move apartments three times, and he always watches our cat when we go on vacations.”

“That is a good friend. Nev detests cats.”

“I do not!” protested Neville. “Well, not all cats. Elton John is a really nice cat.”

“We’re lucky none of our friends are into muggle music,” said Finnegan with a grin at Pansy who rolled her eyes again.

“You boys did a great job up here, how about you guys go enjoy the sunshine, I’ll finish up getting the nursery settled.”

“Do you want me to send up some tea and toast?” asked Neville.

“That would be fantastic, luv,” she said opening a box of baby clothes sent over by Augusta. They were freshly laundered and sorted by size. She ran her hand over a soft sleeper with a sigh. She needed to pick out clothes to bring the twins home in. She needed to pick names. She…. Felt pretty overwhelmed. At least Neville had set this up for her. It was perfect.

“When I heard you were with Parkinson, I wasn’t really sure about it. I see it though. Much more than I ever did with Hannah. The two of you make sense,” said Finnegan over a glass of brandy in the greenhouse where Neville was showing him his latest projects. 

“Yeah, Dora is pretty great when you get to know her,” agreed Neville. 

“She’s perceptive. I wouldn’t want to have to hide anything from her,” laughed the Irishman.

“You have no idea,” agreed Neville with a laugh.

“You’re okay with Dean coming over… with… him and I… Right?” asked a suddenly vulnerable Seamus.

“Of course,” Neville said, suddenly serious again. “Merlin, I’m thrilled for you guys. Like you just said. The two of you make sense together.”

“So Parkinson is like… _huge_ ,” said Seamus sitting down in the worn leather desk chair and giving it a spin. “Are we sure she’s going to make it through dinner without popping? For the record childbirth kind of grosses me out.”

“If she starts to pop, I’m certain she will make you leave before anything gross happens,” laughed Neville taking a sip of his brandy and leaning back against his desk. “Besides, she wants to go at least two more weeks before she gives birth. I’ve never met a more stubborn witch.”

“So let’s hear about how you got together?”

“Hell, I want to hear about you and Dean! How have you managed a secret all this time?!”

Neville breathed in the sweet scent of her hair. It really didn’t get old waking up like this.

“Gotta pee,” she complained, squirming out of his arms. Rolling onto his back, he watched her bare backside as she walked into the bathroom. He wondered if it was normal to find her this attractive at over eight months pregnant. A few seconds later, she returned to bed, her stomach high and round, her breasts full and firm. He decided it was completely normal.

“I can see you getting more ideas, Longbottom,” she scolded.

“Can’t help it, I like what I see.”

“Mmmm… can’t you leave me alone for one morning?” she complained.

“Only if you want me to,” he raised an eyebrow in question.

“Fine… I also find you irresistible. But I’m really uncomfortable on my side right now, you’re going to have to let me be on top.”

“Even better,” he said, reaching for her. 

Twenty minutes later, he washed her hair for her in the shower, enjoying the excuse to lather her in shampoo. “I had better feed you after this so you don’t get cranky.”

“Mmmm.. that’s an excellent idea. I’ll dry my hair and get dressed while you get us breakfast.”

“Deal,” he agreed rinsing off any final suds and getting out of the shower. 

He smiled up at her as she came downstairs a short time later. She was wearing a Hogwarts sweater, and a pair of shorts, her legs looking impossibly long. “Breakfast is served,” he said gesturing to the small feast he had managed to arrange with the house elves. 

“Perfect,” she said giving him a smile and sitting down in front of a stack of French toast and pouring herself some tea. “Has the post arrived?”

“Yes, here were some things for you. Looks like your mother has written again.”

“Yes, she’s trying to convince me on names. It’s probably another list.”

“Mmm… she come up with anything good?”

“You realize this is the same woman that named me Pandora Juniper?” Pansy raised a brow at him.

“It’s very traditional. Besides, aren’t you considering traditional names?”

“Of course, but Pandora is awful. She’s an ignorant mortal who manages to ruin the world by unleashing evil onto it.”

“Your mum wanted a name that could serve the dual purpose of a flower name though,” pointed out Neville.

“Yes, well, I dislike it. I’ll be giving the twins strong names. Names that don’t have some horrible connotation.”

“Of course, darling,” he said flicking open the prophet and flipping to the sports section. He took a bite of croissant and was just reading about the latest in quidditch trades when a sound of outrage come from across the table. 

“You will never believe what those absolute arses at St. Mungos are doing!” she exclaimed. “They are refusing to issue an official statement refuting that there is any possibility you could be the father. Those absolute bastards!”

“Now Dora,” he said as she got up and started pacing the small breakfast nook area. 

“I’m going to go down there and give them a piece of my mind. They can’t do this!”

“Well…”

“I’m just asking them to tell the truth!” The tea set on the table rattled with angry uncontrolled magic.

“Dora!” he shouted grabbing her by the shoulders. She was getting much too worked up.

“You should come with me,” she said after taking a deep breath.

“I can’t. I…. I need to tell you something. I should have told you a long time ago. Why don’t you sit down.”

“What?” she said sitting and crossing her arms as he took a few steps back. 

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, I… I’m sure it’s nothing, but the clinic probably can’t provide a statement saying I’m not the father, because I have in fact registered as a one time donor so I could have an heir. Since it’s completely anonymous until the child comes of age, I’m sure they can’t say one way or the other. You weren’t the only one with the brilliant idea to use the fertility clinic to secure a child by the time of your conditional age.” He watched the news hit her like a betrayal. 

“When were you going to tell me?” Pansy finally managed after a long moment of tense silence.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. 

“Were you just going to wait and see if they come out looking like you? Or just wait until they came of age?” she demanded, her words picking up speed with her anger. “How long have you suspected!?”

“Merlin, I don’t know. Since you told me, there’s been a possibility, but I think part of me was just hopeful. I don’t know that they are mine, and I’m not going to presume they are!” he ran his hands through his hair again and paced, talking with his hands in agitation. 

“Why wouldn’t you just say? Were you afraid to know!? Afraid it would be true? Was it too much commitment? Or did you think I’d be ‘easy’ until I gave birth and you might as well wait it out!” she screamed, getting to her feet and pushing him away from her with a two handed shove. “Merlin’s beard I’m an idiot. No wonder you’re willing to keep sleeping with me and keep me close. This is your perfect little dream, getting it all! Everything Abbot never gave you.”

“It’s not like that! Fuck, Dora, you know I’m not just using you. This isn’t like that!”

“Thought you would have your cake and eat it too. Be the twins father figure. If they were yours, you’d be raising your heir! Your gran would be thrilled, no trotting down the aisle required. If they weren’t yours… No commitments, easy… and if the twins turned out looking just like some other random wanker, no harm, no foul! It would be easy enough to move on in a few years.”

“We’ve never been like that. This isn’t some…. Marriage. I never said we were anything more than what we are. I never volunteered to be anyone’s father! I told you I wanted to help raise your children and I meant it. I didn’t keep you close for some nefarious purpose to take over your life!”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t think in your heart they were yours,” she demanded. “LOOK AT ME!”

“It’s felt like they were mine from the moment you told me,” he said. Her hand snapped up and slapped him across the cheek. 

“You LIED to me! You, the person I have shared more of myself with than anyone else, hid this from me! We’ve always been honest with each other! How could you?” He reached for her as she backed away, tears in her eyes. Her voice was quiet and wounded.

“I did not! We still don’t know either way,” he protested, trying to calm the red faced witch. 

“Of _course_ it would be you. With your stupid brown hair, and your stupid blue eyes, and your stupid auror skills, and your stupid purebloodedness. Of course you’d look great on paper! Why wouldn’t I choose you! You know I’ve always been drawn to you, why wouldn’t I choose someone just like you! Even when I detested you, I wished it was you! I laid there and thought about that _stupid_ offer you made. I never want to see you again!” she screeched. “Parkview Manor!” She threw a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.

“Dora!” he yelled as she stepped into the green flames and whisked away. “FUCK!” he screamed at the empty room. Gripping the edge of the table with their half eaten breakfast, he hunched over and tried to breathe in through his nose to calm himself. 

The back page of the society section caught his eye, a photograph in engagements and marriages section. Hannah and MacMillian smiled out of the frame together, a date below marking their planned nuptials less than two months away. Her already large breasts were even bigger than normal. Of _course_ they were getting married and having a baby. Now, Pansy was going to leave him, and have the babies alone. He had gotten used to the idea that they were his babies too. Too used to it.

Rage washed over him and he flipped the table, the dishes shattering on the ground in a satisfying cacophony of noise. Sinking to the floor, he leaned against the cupboard and stared at the wall pretending he wasn’t crying. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, sorry for the late update. My goal for the new year is to update more! Successful with this being the second update. Would have been sooner if there wasn't so much going on in the real world to distract me! Thanks for your wonderful comments and support! I'm thinking only maybe two more chapters. Don't worry, I have more PAnsy and NEville planned. :)


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